Techno Rejump
by KyuketsukiKokoro
Summary: Matt's just your average, goggled gamer, but with a sudden decision on his brother's part, practically his whole life changes. But what can he do but accept it? Beware of lemon and self-lovin', MxM
1. MAD

**Wow, I think this might be the longest chaptery thingy I've written in forever! Wow! Anyway. Welcome to my brand spankin' new fic. Yahh. **

**First off, I hate the title it currently has, but I couldn't think of anything else AT ALL! Unbe-freaking-lievable, huh? Gah. Please, poke me loudly in a review or pm with a better name, I'm begging you! Seriously, I dislike this one. A lot. Well... It might grow on me, we'll see. **

**Umm.. oh yeah!**

**Disclaimers - I don't own Death Note, kay? For one, I'm not Japanese like the people that made it were, and for two [am I retarded? yes] something of such epic proportions would never come into my head. I just typoed 'head' with 'hair' seriously. I'm a bit dumb, really. Oh yeah, and I don't own Matt, Mello, or Hadouken! and I never will, either. Unless I meet a Matt and date him :3**

**Warnings - Mello's a perv, Matt's underage, lots of swearing, but no smexings in this chappy, aye? Umm... Obvious yaoi themeage, and entirely AU. **

**For the heads up; some wonderful lemoning shows up in some future chapters, so maybe that'll be nice? Do read on, anyway :D**

**Enjoy! :D**

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"Matt!"

_Clickity click._

"Matt?!"

Still no response. I'm pretty sure he assumed I just couldn't hear, since I had my massive black Skullcandy headphones on, and Hadouken! was playing about fifty decibels roughly fifty decibels too loud. I could still hear him though. I just chose to ignore him. All the time. Twenty-four seven, almost.

I think it annoys him.

The headphones were very suddenly yanked unceremoniously from my head, and I yelped. Sort of... Yeah. I spun around in my chair, furiously trying to claw them back from the brunette boy that was standing over me.

My goddamn brother, Mr So-Called-Perfect. Hah. He wore a pretty evil smirk on his face, the same one he'd worn last week when he'd broken my Game Cube. Took me ages to fix the poor thing... But I digress.

"Get out the damn house, you need to exercise," he snapped, chucking my portable sound system into my face; well, that was where it was intended, but I caught it. 'Cause I'm just that damn epic. Especially for a fifteen year old who's idea of 'exercise' is playing tennis on the Wii for ten minutes. Just because he heads down to the damned gym every other day doesn't mean everyone does. It's just not my style, damnit!

He was attempting to shove some form of poster in my face. I guess he'd yanked it off a window or something in town. Something like that, probably. Not amused, I pushed it a little ways off my face so I could actually see it. Something to do with dance lessons. And a number to call.

I stared at it in shock. He expected that I'd dance?!

What was this crap?! Surely he knew that really wasn't my thing... I attempted to zone back into what he was saying so as not to cause myself avoidable problems.

"I've already enrolled you. It starts in about twenty minutes, so I'd get moving if I were you," he smirked, tapping an invisible watch, before dropping the colourful paper onto my desk and exiting. The way he said it made it obvious what he thought of my ability to move faster than a leisurely amble.

With a sigh, I picked it up. It looked more like a poster for a rave than for dance lessons, what with all the neon lights in the background and black silhouettes with their hair flipping everywhere. Mine does that when I head bang. I try not to do that so much... Unless I'm alone. Then I jump around like a looney to music that's probably damaged the ears of everyone within a twenty mile radius, but not mine, because I've built up an immunity to it.

Though on reflection of my current dancing ability (non existent) this whole dance lesson thing might not be too painful... Maybe some random crappy 'dance' lessons might not be so bad for me.

With a slight sigh, I switched from my jeans and striped hoodie into a pair of knee-length, black board shorts and my striped red and black T-shirt. It was warm outside, after all, and I didn't want to die or something at this dance thing. Bloody Light signing me up for shit for no reason... Totally uncalled for.

I checked the venue on the poster quickly, recognizing the address easily, and quickly left the house, wandering aimlessly in the right direction. I knew it was the right direction for the simple reason that I just know these things. It only took me about ten minutes to get there, probably faster than Lighty-kins – note my sarcasm – had expected.

Not bothering to wait, I figured I'd just go on in and wait in an area that wasn't doused in sunlight that was trying to turn me into something resembling a dying oven chip. I appeared to have walked in a brightly lit lobby, so I figured I should ask the girl behind the counter thing where I should go.

She pointed me in what I hoped was the right direction, and after a short, well lit corridor or two, I found myself in a vaguely darker room, where music was already blasting. I wondered momentarily if I was late, but quickly noticed that there was only one person there. The teacher maybe?

Whoever it was, they were dancing like their goddamn life depended on it. I recognized the beat easily enough; it was off the Hadouken! album that had recently come out. Awesome. I stood by the door, stock still so as not to distract the dancer, nodding slightly in time to the music.

The movements were incredible, frankly, the person's body moving in a way that I would've placed at a strip club, or maybe some pole dancer, but not a teenage dance lesson room. Silently, I pulled a Red Bull can from one of my over-large pockets, tapping it lightly three times before I cracked it open. From the looks of it, I was gonna need an energy boost.

Apparently, the dancer heard it over the music, because the loud beats and most of the movement stopped moments later, and when I looked up from admiring the can, I noticed that the lights had been flicked on, and there was a face staring down at me.

Masculine, definitely, and about an inch above mine, but sort of delicate looking, apart from the badass scar that was covering a good portion of his face. It was pretty cool, actually. He was dressed in clothes that looked pretty tight, and surely couldn't have been all that comfortable to dance like that in, really.

I was distracted from my gawping at the random blond guy's body by fingers snapping loudly in my face. I jumped, blushing a little as I look back up at him.

"You're the new kid?" The question was about as bored as it was humanly possible to sound. I nodded mutely, frowning a little. He didn't seem like such a nice guy. Bit of an asshole, maybe. He'd been pretty hot dancing though... I quickly wiped that thought from my head, instead responding properly with a question of my own.

"You're the dance teacher?"

I assumed he wasn't particularly amused by this, because he blew his fringe out of his face and sighed loudly before replying. I wasn't sure what exactly about me was so irritating.

"No duh, kid. I don't remember your name, so I'm calling you Firehead. Live with it." I scowled. Well, it was probably more of a pout. I'm not great with the whole 'threatening looks' thing. The teacher guy seems to have got it down perfectly thought. "I'm Mello. I'm twenty-four, and I don't take shit from the kids that come here, geddit?"

I frowned a little. I never asked his age. I was very suddenly aware of his presence – right up in my face. It surprised me, and not in a good way either, since I have this big personal bubble that I don't need people invading. Especially not people that look like I might want to jump them. I'm bi, but that doesn't mean I'm attracted to everyone I see. I'm just picky over looks, attitude and personality. Gender doesn't bother me, really.

He was smirking. It looked like he might actually be capable of out-smirking dear Light. That was more than a little bit scary, to be honest. He looked like he was about to start feeling me up – though that might've just been my imagination, which is always a possibility – before he suddenly stepped back and looked at the clock on the wall. I hadn't noticed that before. And I'm usually pretty damn observant... Huh.

"Class is starting. Leave your can at the edge," he instructed, halfway across the room before people started to arrive. I glared after him in as threatening a way as I could manage. He didn't even seem to notice, as everyone started to ditch their possessions around the room, finding their own small groups around the room.

I knew exactly what was going down here; they had groups, and they'd been here for hell-knows how long.

The teacher – Mello, I remembered, automatically mentally correcting myself – clapped, and the noise died instantly, while a warmup started, that was about as dynamic as it could be.

It took me about three seconds to realize that this was going to cause me some severe murder. I was tired after a few minutes of 'warming up', and this obviously wasn't the hardest part.

While I did my best to keep breathing like a normal human being, music was flicked on, and everyone automatically seemed to start raving like retards. I seemed to be the only one heard as Mello sighed, but everyone heard as he yelled at them all to stop.

"Good fucking god! You've been here for hell knows how long, and you can't even fucking dance right! Do I have to go over the goddamned basics yet AGAIN?!" I just assumed this wasn't directed at me, since I had neither been attempting to dance, nor had I been here before.

He seemed to have different thoughts on the matter though.

"Firehead! You weren't dancing. Get your fucking ass over here and _we_ can demonstrate what I've been teaching," he snapped, and I had no choice but to join him at the front of his 'class', feeling like a moron while I tried to explain quietly and quickly to him that I was new, and I had no idea what was going on. He simply shrugged – that evil smirk was in place again – and flicked the music back on, grabbing hold of me and starting up a dance that should probably not have been happening between some guy in his twenties and... me.

I felt vaguely idiotic as he guided my arms – and the rest of my too, damnit! - to show me what to do, while everyone just drank up the scene like it wasn't totally weird, nodding in understanding. I think it was understanding, anyway. I don't really care. I was more than a little bit distracted.

After a short while, he barked at everyone to pair up and dance 'properly'. I wondered why Light had signed me up to learn to be a stripper... Maybe a pole dancer. Probably the latter, actually. It was lame of him, he knows that I hate contact, and I was currently getting more and more uncomfortable with my situation.

It took me about ten seconds to realize that there had been an even number in the class before I'd turned up, so I was stuck with... Mello. Mr Dodgy-Teacher. I spend too long making up lousy surnames for people. I'm sure it's not that accurate... Well. He's hot and all, but he's a teacher... Isn't that illegal or something? I swear there's some law against laying so much as a hair on your students... Shit.

And so, I was stuck for two damned hours being demonstrated on by a guy that was looking increasingly hot. I'm not sure if I mean _hot _hot, or just sort of... sweaty hot? Well, I was getting increasingly tired and sweaty. Not a good combination, but everyone seemed the same. Everyone was dancing like maniacs, refusing to take a break. I wish I'd had a chance to drink my bloody Red Bull. Then I'd be in slightly better shape right now. Possibly.

After what seemed like a far too long time, he glanced at the clock that hung over the door, and promptly took several steps back, clapping loudly and yelling that everyone was dismissed. I swear, there was a lot less lesson and a lot more perversion than I was happy with. Though, I could tell that I would probably sweat myself fit or some shit like that.

I was pretty happy about that, really, but when I turned to grab my drink and get the fucking hell out of there to take a shower and play some Zelda, there was a crowd that made that impossible. I mean honestly, it looked as if the entire class had taken it upon themselves to make it impossible for me to reach my stuff, and consequently the sanctuary that was outside.

They all cleared very suddenly, and before I could so much as blink at my poor, battered Red Bull, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Tensing up, I turned to find blond strands of hair floating against my face. Blond strands that belonged to Mello. And Mello was, once again, very much up in my face, but not – apparently – in a threatening way, which worried me deeply.

"You're not so bad, for a new kid. I might even honor you with learning your name..." I flinched a little at the tone of his voice, and he apparently noticed, because he burst out laughing, a grin on his face.

"Dear me... You're going to need to loosen up, because let me tell you..." There was a pause that seemed to radiate awkwardness. "You're the only student I like."

And with that he simply left the room, grabbing a hoodie off the desk near the door.

I stared after him, dumbstruck by what had just happened. What exactly is he talking about? Moreover, am I going to come back? Yeah, I guess so, even if it is just to keep Light off my back... Not because I'm intrigued by this situation I seem to be stuck in. No way. My curiosity needs to go fuck itself, because I'm not interested in what that Mello guy seems to be on about.

No, he's not on about anything. He's just a very up-and-personal person, that's obvious enough. But damn, why is he picking on me for all of this? I freaking hate being near people, so why did I even come to a dance class, and why are my questions reverberating off each other and making less and less sense?

I'm going to go home. And shower. And drink Red Bull. And play Legend of Zelda. And then balance will have been restored.

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**Hows that for a starting chapter? Good? Bad? Ugly? Stop with the movie referencing? Yes. I understand. Umm... reviews make me want to bake miso biscuits! They taste good, actually... Nom ^_^ Anyways... I'm gonna try and plan stuff for this, and if you're lucky I'll epdate before next Sunday! This is my aim. To update every week AT LEAST. If it appears that I've forgotten, poke me. Loudly. :D So um.. I'll go away now :D**


	2. I Saw It On Your Keyboard

**Holy leather pants! An update! A'ight, so this would've been up yesterday... But a parental figure cut off my internet D: Granted, I should've gotten off about an hour previously... But still! So yeah, here's a brand new chapter! I'm not sure about the titling for this one, so if you know an epic song with a beautiful techno beat that sounds like it might work... Tell me! Please! I'm the only person I know with a techno obsession, so it's impossible! Um.. I'm done ranting now.**

**Disclaimers - I don't own Mello's trousers. Or Matt. But I can control the two of them in my stories. Other than my plots and shizzle, I own nothing!**

**Warnings - Implied... smexings? Just to say, it is implied, but not mentioned. Why? Because I'm too shy to write it =.=' Prod me with an tips you want about smexings, because otherwise I might die xD Or I might do the scene in a roleplay, and then edit it... Hmm... Anyway. Yeah. Implied dream-sex, Matty swearing, and possibly a jumpy plot D: **

**Enjoy!**

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The flimsy tin can crumpled in my fist relatively easily, before I chucked it straight into the bin, pulling my shirt over my head and I stormed upstairs to take my damn shower.

I knew I was going to keep taking those freaking 'lesson' things, but I didn't know why... Or my subconscious (where I seem to have put this information) refuses to tell me. One or the other, and to be honest, I don't care. Now I have to go and learn to become a pole dancer – with another human being as my goddamn pole – every other bloody day.

Note to self; kill Light. A lot. And soon.

As these thoughts were running crazily around my unsuspecting head, I was flicking on the water in the shower and peeling the clothes I now noticed were doused liberally in sweat – mine, I hoped – off my body to dump them in a pile on the floor.

It took me three seconds into my shower to realize I hadn't locked the door, and I immediately had to do just that.

I hit the slippery wall weakly, scowling angrily. I never signed up for this! I was sweating like a maniac, and I'm going to be forced to dance with a total pedophile for the foreseeable future. Or until Light thinks I've done my time, aka NEVER! Damn damn damn damn damn.

I had to give up mentally moaning at myself, because I realized it might help if I actually clean myself off a little, even if it is just so that I feel less tired and give my limbs some relaxation. I swear, I've never felt that tired in my life. Ever.

It wasn't until Light started yelling through the door to ask if I'd drowned that I realized that I must've been in there for ages. Looking at my hands, I noticed that I was vaguely starting to resemble a very pale sultana. Oh great.

I turned off the water, grabbing a towel to wrap around my waist, and a smaller one to try and rub my hair dry with. Ignoring my lovely brother's screeching, I gathered up my clothes at a leisurely pace, dropping them into the laundry basket as I left the small, tiled room, before heading to the theoretical safety of my room.

I slumped back onto my bed, figuring I'd just wait until I was dry before redressing and attending my date with LoZ, and ending up thinking quite hard.

Mello was a pretty good dancer, I'd give him that. He could easily be making way more money, so why bother with the whole 'teaching a bunch of kids I hate' thing? In my head, that made little to no sense whatsoever. I mean, seriously idiotic.

Maybe he wanted the control? Being able to yell at us with gay abandon (it's just a phrase, I'm not making assumptions) and then dance until everyone else was dead on their feet? Maybe he _was_ a pervert... I could actually feel my eyes doing that suspicious thing cartoon characters do, where they frown and look from side to side. Quite dramatic, really... Heh.

I gave up waiting to air dry within minutes, mainly because I can't be assed with thinking about Mello more than is necessary – and that includes him dancing, damnit – and also because I have a horribly short attention span that can only ever be caught by amazing video games. Namely Legend of Zelda, Mario, Pokemon and Tetris. I love that game so much... Damn, it's too bad I'm too lazy to fire up my laptop and go play it.

I always play it online. Dunno why. It's the same with Pacman too. Light reckons it's because I'm retarded. I didn't even bother pointing out to him that I'm way smarter than he is. After all, he wouldn't believe it; I work about half an hour per week... And that's when I'm actually at school.

Suprisingly, I never actually skive, I just... Don't work. Much, anyway. It's all so easy I could do it in my sleep... Apart from maybe Maths, but who gives a toss about that? Oh wait... Lighty-boy does. Bastard.

Sighing, I grab the first pair of jeans I saw – the same goes for my stripes – and pulled my goggles onto my head to rave with my wet hair. Maybe not rave. Sit. Yeah.

After, I wandered downstairs to find out whether or not the Wii was on. I can never remember if I've turned it off or not, but apparently I did , because there wasn't even the little red 'standby' light on.

Searching for the right plug socket behind the TV, I flicked random switches until I found the right one, grinning happily to myself as I started up the whole thing – TV, Wii, all that lot.

I got pretty involved in my game, as always, before something struck me as I watched a cut scene of Link. Oh no...

Oh my fuck. Link looks like an elfish, green clad Mello.

My favorite game character of all time bears resemblance to the most perverted teacher in the history of perverted teachers! Holy crap... I'm never going to be able to look at that guy in the same way.

They have the same slanted, determined blue eyes, the same pointed face, the same shade of blond hair, the same killer attitude... Hang on a moment. How in the fuck do I remember that damn guy's fucking face perfectly?! That's not normal! Am I going mental or something? Why is he so goddamn stuck in my head?!

Oh jeez, I need to stop asking myself so many freaking questions. Seriously, I'm probably thinking into this too much. I. Don't Care.

I only wanted to play my damn video games and relax. And he still manages to find his bloody way into my head. Why can't I just think about something else already?

After a little longer, I give up, saving my game and turning off the console, before stamping my way into the kitchen to find some food. There's a bunch of chopped up carrots, so I assumed that Light was making himself some puke, and went to grab myself a small pack of Japanese cookies, and another can of Red Bull from the fridge, and then hibernating to my room so as to avoid the abomination that's named itself my brother.

I live with Light. My parents went off gallivanting to hell-knows-where, and left my obviously perfect eighteen year old brother to look after me. I swear, they must be damn blind to not notice what a jackass he can be. He constantly calls me gay, which is sort of unfair since I've never actually been properly attracted to anyone. I assume I'm bi for the convenience. Everyone I've ever met is either a total jackass to start off with, or a total jackass once I get to know them. I don't really want to be told what I am and aren't, especially by someone with a whole stack of boyfriends and girlfriends. And I mean currently, at the same time, not separately and in the past. He's such a whore, I swear.

I'm just annoying myself now. If Mello wasn't stuck in my head, I wouldn't be trying to distract myself with internally bitching about my bloody brother. But no. That would be convenient, wouldn't it? Gah. I hate it when people do that. It's just plain rude to lodge yourself in someone else's brain, especially when I'm almost eighty-seven percent certain that he's not bothering himself with thoughts about my skinny little ass.

And by that I just mean me in general, not specifically my ass. I swear.

Without even noticing it I managed to eat my way through half of twelve biscuits – they are kind of healthy, at least – and almost finish my can. Well damn. That's all I need. Urgh, I have to go to school tomorrow. Alright, so I did go today, but Tuesdays are the worst. It's when you know that you're stuck in the middle, but less so than Wednesday, so it's much harsher... I wish it would snow. That would be amazing. Maybe I should go to sleep. Then I can wake up at midnight and play loud music to piss of Light.

Sounds like a plan.

Of course, getting to sleep while your brain is ticking away at one hundred miles per hour is more than a tiny bit difficult. I had to keep telling myself to stop thinking and shut down. It's a lot harder than you'd think, to be honest. I guess I managed it though, because next thing I knew, I was in a dream version of the dance studio I'd been in earlier. I bet this is Mello messing with my subconscious again... Git.

Oh, he's there too. It looks like the scene from when I first walked in; he's dancing in clothes that look to tight and... dare I say it, sexy. Damnit. But I'm moving towards him. Dream-Matt puts his arms around the figure, while I'm wishing I could wake up and make that mental image go away, because Dream-Mello is still dancing. Well that's awkward.

It's weird, how you watch yourself in dreams like you're a whole different entity. Or maybe I'm the only one that sees dreams in third person. Eh, whatever. The point is, Dream-Matt is a lot more forward – wait, that implies I like him! Oh crud – than I would ever be. Tosser.

Oh. We appear to be kissing. Well shit. Now, this pisses me off, because I can sort of feel it, in that dream-state sort of way, which is weird. Partially because I don't know the feeling in reality, and this irritates me to no end. Evil person.

To be honest, I feel like a total pervert, even if it is my own dream. Well, partly because it's happening in my head. My imagination – sick, twisted imagination – is fueling all of this shit. Maybe I should wake up.

Dream-Mello has his hands on Dream-Matt's ass. This is starting to look like a private Mello-style dance lesson. Because he's still moving in that way. Oh dear crap. This is just wrong. And I'm going to wake up with other issues!

It's odd, how my thought processes continue despite my obvious lack of consciousness. I suppose I'm only half sleeping. You have to be half sleeping to be able to know what dream you're having, because otherwise you're just completely shut down, and there's no way in hell you can remember what was going on. Yeah, I'm so smart about this stuff.

Urgh, I wish the Dream-people would just remove themselves from my head and go feel each other up in some other place. Wait.

Is my head telling me something here? The reason he's stuck in my head? No way. No fucking way in hell. Because that guy is just... Oh dear god, now my thoughts are going haywire too. Why won't everything just bloody leave me alone?! I'm tired of these so-called dance lessons. I've only been to one, and I dunno how everyone puts up with his bitching.

Actually that's obvious; they don't get the same attention that I get. I don't see him getting himself all up in other people's space, or dancing like _that_ with them. I'm special. Woop. Sarcasm intended.

Seriously, this is stupid. My dream's getting more and more vivid, and the scene keeps changing. We were in the dance place, and now we're in some tightly packed apartment, but the same music was playing, and the same things were happening.

Wait, that's a lie. Our dream-shirts are missing in action now. He'd better not have ditched my stripes in the studio place! Wait... it's a dream, it doesn't actually matter at all. Of course. But it does! Because there's me. And Mello. And now there's a motherfucking bed as well. We've moved into some form of bedroom, and it looks just as cramped as the room before.

I need to wake up. Seriously. I'm a lot less third person and a lot more first person than I was two scene changes ago. Bloody hell, this is awkward. I'm dreaming about getting laid by my fucking dance teacher for fucks sake! How is this a good thing in any way, shape, or form?! And now dance lessons are just going to be awkward, because I have all these images imprinted in my damned photographic memory. Not that it wasn't awkward before, but still!

Shit shit shit! Stop this! Fucking wake me up! Isn't that how your brain works? When you don't want to see something (like your death in a dream, you always wake up before you die) you wake up! Why am I not bloody waking up already?! I do not want to see, hear or feel any of this, even if it is all dulled by the blanket of Dream-World shit or whatever. Seriously, this is not something I need in my head.

I guess it's a little to late to say that, though... Goddamnit, why does this have to happen? Why now? Why me?! I mean, sure, he's been dancing with me like... Well, I'm not gonna attempt comparisons. But it's understandable, right? Right. I want to wake up, but I don't seem to be able to.

This is stupid... I'm usually such a light sleeper. I can wake myself up at the slightest thing, and I'm practically an insomniac with the useless amount of time I actually spend not sleeping. But now it's like I'm watching a train-wreck; I can't look away or find any way of avoiding the whole situation that's unfolding right in front of me.

It's so creepy, feeling dream-like hands on me, the sensation entirely in my head. My mind was supplying all of this. And... It's weird. My brain is doing this to me? Well fuck.

Why?

Why?!

_...Why...?_

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**Question time again! Did you like it? Por que? Es muy interestante? Right, I'll stop Spanishing. Honest. *halo hovers over head* But please, reviews will make me glomp you! And if it's long and stuff, I'll almost definately reply, just because you took the time! **

**Also! Thanks to the following people for reviews! **

**Shadow Dancer666  
IndifferenceToSociety  
ShyClown  
PrincessPika**

**Virtual glomps to all of you 3 *glomp* See? Right there. Yeah. Thanks, especially for the constructiveness! Um.. I'll go away now. And get thinking up the next chapter, taking all my tip-majigs into account now 3 Buhbye! **


	3. Hey There Delilah

**Ohmyfuck!!! Alright, so I spent quite a long time writing this chapter. I often just write them in one or two goes, but this took me.. three days? Yeah. Oh, and I just got back from Butlins! It was cold. Hah. Me and my friends sung 'Hey There Delilah' on karaoke... So if any of you were in Minehead over the past weekend, you might've seen me ^^ I was pretty hard to miss, to be frank... I had my Matty [bright red] wig on xD but I doubt any of you are chilling in England so much, so yeah xD If anyone was there, though... I will be highly shocked and amazed :3 Anyhoo... Without further ado, a chapter!**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Matt, or his penis, or Mello, or his penis... Umm... I do own this plot line though! Woot woot!**

**Warnings - Um... It's finally worthy of being M rated :3 oh yeah, and plenty of Matty swearing his pretty little head off**

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For the second day in a row, I woke up with that weird, wet feeling. Urgh. It's that bloody fucking dance teacher that's doing this to me. I used to be so in control, and then he went and did... something. I don't know. He started dancing like a motherfucking god. That sort of thing generally causes teenage guys problems, right?

Wrong.

I know Near would be pissing himself right now. He's my best – read as only – friend, but he's so damn emotionless, he'd probably allow himself a _smile_ if he knew what was going on in my life.

Luckily, I don't make a habit of telling him that I just had dream-sex with my dance teacher, whom I both barely know and intensely dislike. Well. I thought I did, anyway. I mean, he's obnoxious, he spends all of his time yelling... But for all of his – few – faults, he is a very good dancer. I know this because that scene, my first ever impression of the guy, was when he was dancing.

Yes, it still looks vaguely inappropriate to me... But maybe that is just me? No-one else seems to get weirded out by it. Then again, no-one else seems to have some guy nine odd years older than them trying to dry hump them. Seriously! No lies, or exaggeration, or anything! I swear down, that's all he's really doing.

And while I couldn't really care less, it's sort of weird having someone on you in that way with about twenty other guys bloody watching. Honestly.

Maybe not twenty exactly. It probably looked like a lot more than it actually was, really... But I'll go with twenty. It sounds about right either way, even if my imagination is just fucking to make things worse than they really need to be.

There's something that's haunting me today, and the cause is very simple. After school, I'm heading back to the place where I get to dance with possibly the hottest, and most annoying guy in the history of the world.

Wait, wait, wait! Hold up. I did not just call him hot? Did I? Have I done that before?

Why is he so annoying as to become permanently embedded in my mind?! It's cruel. I don't like thinking about one thing for most of my time. But that seems to be happening. All day. All night. Practically twenty-four bloody seven. The same amount of time I ignore Light for. Well that's just brilliant.

I'd like to be able to say I get an escape when I lose consciousness, but the truth is, I never get a break from him. His face is implanted into my brain, and I've only seen him for a pretty short amount of time… Oh, of course. Photographic shit in my head. So I'll never be able to escape his wrath.

Wrath… That doesn't even sound like it's pretending to be right. Because it's not his fault he has such a… No. I wasn't about to say 'luscious'. Urgh! This is my problem! He's making me feel like a total fucktard. I am not a motherfucking fucktard, damnit! I think this is officially a 'fuck my life' moment. I don't want to have him on my brain, all the time, without fail. I can't deal with all of this. I was not created to be a particularly emotional or caring person. This is all so weird!

I'm getting so freaked over all of this crap… I'm usually the calmest person on the whole motherfucking planet, but I guess I've lost that status now, apparently. That is, if the in-need-of-cleaning-before-Light-smashes-into-my-room problem has anything to attest to.

I have done nothing to deserve this! So what if I'm an antisocial, anarchist atheist?! This is completely irrelevant. Oh… Hah, I can be described with only words starting in 'A'. I guess some comedic jackass would tell me that there's another one for that list. 'Asshole'. And that comedic jackass would, of course, be Light. I guess it's true. I can hold my own in arguments that I inadvertently begin, and those losers never stand a chance. I'm not the best person in existence, but still, he needs to keep his bloody comments to himself.

For genius kids, they sure don't know who to pick on. I'd really expect more of the unfortunate people. I mean, if I were them, I'd just punch me in the face and be done with it… After all, they should know exercise isn't my thing…

Oh but wait, I'm learning how to strengthen my… Um… I'll go with legs. Lower half in general. ARGH!

He always makes it make into my head, even when I'm going off on tangents! It always leads right back to him!

I think I may be addicted to all of this… I dunno. Is that the right description? It sort of feels that way. Like a part of me – a small part, but it's still there – wants me to keep thinking about him. Maybe daydream… About what? His hair? His eyes? The way he gets so testy just because he loves what he does? Loves what he does to me? Just because he can?

Maybe he just picks on someone to be his victim every so often. Maybe he'll leave me alone after a while if I act like it doesn't affect me… Damn, I just realized! Last time, I didn't wear my goggles! I'll have to remember to do that next time… Today… Because otherwise he'll realize straight away. I've been told my eyes are incredibly expressive, and I'm really interested in finding out through Mello. If he pays attention, anyway. I doubt he will. I'm just a fucking plaything to him. Someone with a head to screw around with, and not in the way my motherfucking imagination keeps generating.

That'd never happen… I mean, there's the law, and he could lose his job, and hell knows how much else.

I almost sound like it would upset me if he lost his job. I've been to one damn lesson and I'm totally hooked, but not to the 'sport' I went to 'learn'.

But I won't stoop so low as to thanking Light, not even in my head. No. I blame him for screwing up my perfectly flawless attitude. That was completely uncalled for. I have this horrible feeling that he knew exactly what he was doing when he signed me up… I bet he knows Mello. I bet he knew that Mello would attach himself to me immediately. I really hope the poor guy isn't 'dating' Light. That would suck monster-cock.

That's sort of lame, now I think about it. He knew. He definitely knew. But I won't ask him. I'll play along. I won't play into his hands though. I won't quit. I won't freak out in his general vicinity. I'll keep up my act. I'll get what everyone wants… Well. I'll get out of the house more, and therefore away from Light, who'll theoretically then spend less time annoying the living shit out of me.

Hmm. I guess I'm really not all that… Mellow. Hah, guess who's back in my head again? Not that he wasn't really to begin with… Urgh. I wanna vent at someone, but Near won't care, and he'll probably think my situation is hilarious, Light would just about die from manic laughter fits, and… Who else is there to tell? No-one. Unless I start talking to my NintenDogs. Oh my fucking crap. I'm going insane. Honestly and truly batshit insane. Shit. Shit. And shit again.

Damnit… I suppose I should be getting ready for school though. Another thing I'm not allowed to escape from. And it'll be more painful, because Near will probably deduce that something's wrong, and spend the next however-long trying to figure it out, which means no rest for me while I try and keep up with all of my own lies as precisely as possible. I think I actually feel sick because of all of this.

But I won't puke. I won't show any weaknesses. I can't. That's a loss. Well, Near reckons that's true, anyway. I dunno if I want to believe him, but right now, I have to put up as many shields against the reality of my head as is possible. Starting with my goggles. So where in the hell did I put them?

Kitchen table. Of course. I always chuck them there when I get home. Unless, of course, I have a highly important gaming achievement to create. Like… Playing Zelda. Or completing a new game for the first time. Or something!

I wish my games would still let me escape, but they don't seem to want to… It's so unfair. Link's been abandoned for ages, by my standards at least, just because I want to avoid Mello-like thoughts. I swear, soon I'm going to start linking tiny thinks like motherfucking DUST to that man. I feel like a bloody fucking teenage girl. Only… If I were a teenage girl, I wouldn't currently be in need of cleaning myself and my bed up. Damnit.

So, I just gave up on trying and failing to evade thoughts of Mello while I concentrated on everything and anything else. Instead I just dashed to the shower, glad to see on the way that Light was still fast asleep. Lazy ass bastard. I'm up early every morning – even before all this… Stuff… started happening to me – but he wastes his time with sleeping. Who wants to lose time existing in consciousness when you can be sitting up and thinking?

It makes much more sense not to waste time with sleep when you can waste it differently. I dunno. Maybe that's just me. Probably.

I flicked on the hot water, before turning to the bathroom and locking myself in, leaning against the wall for a few seconds to calm myself down a little before turning the water on and tugging my sweatpants off. I felt a tiny bit better without wet, junkified sweats attached to my legs by fluid. Sighing to myself, I stepped into the shower, slowly washing through my hair before I turned to the rest of my body.

Come to think of it, I rarely wash my hair properly. Mostly I just sort of stand under the water and hope all the crap's gonna come out. It usually does. This time though, I feel a proper wash is in order. Even if it is just so that I don't go to school feeling like a horny little bastard.

Which I guess sort of sums it up. Maybe not horny, actually… Hormonal. Teh, it's probably the same thing, anyway. I don't know. I don't care, either. Hormones can go fuck themselves, for all I care, as long as they leave me alone when there are human beings around me. Shit, that would be awkward. Boner in the same room as Near. That little bitch is almost guaranteed to notice, as well. He notices everything. And I do mean everything. His first comment to me when I see him today will probably be "Oh, Matt, you washed your hair."

That says a lot about me. I do wash my hair, though, just not tons and tons, like a motherfucking girl.

That said, I bet Mello washes his hair a lot… It's all… shiny… and… stuff… Crap, am I an awkward guy. Shiny and stuff? What in the name of fuckery am I on?! Testosterone, duh. Urgh, bloody motherfucking-hell-shit.

I finish off washing myself, before turning the water off and bundling up my jizzed-up trousers to chuck into the laundry basket thing, before doing the same with my sheets. I swear, I didn't have to do this yesterday. I hate my life sometimes.

I mean sure, comparatively, I don't have the worst life in existence. Internet, electricity, food, blah blah. But still, I'm allowed to be pissed off for a tiny bit at least, right? Right.

My school uniform get's tugged on as quickly as is humanly possible, and then I clean my teeth and shit, same as every morning. Fun, fun, and some more fun. Thing is, all these tiny tasks are far too mundane to keep my mind occupied for even a tenth of a second. I can do all of this in my sleep.

***

Hah, Near you dick. Of course. He points out that there's something wrong with me, to which I respond by snapping my goggles over my eyes and growling angrily. I hate that guy sometimes. But of course, he's my friend, so I try and let it go. It's in his nature to notice anything that can be noticed, so I shouldn't get so mad. But Mello and all of his effects can only be known to me, and me alone.

He keeps asking though, refusing to give up until he understands.

So I snap.

Of course I yell at him to piss off, and it's not like he's really going to mind all that much, right? He has no emotions, so he'll just be talking to me again when I allow him to. Maybe never, if he can't drop this. I really hope he gets the message, but he probably won't. I think that guy is completely devoid of understanding towards anyone other than himself. I mean sure, he's amazing at Psychology and all that, but that doesn't mean he can empathize or any of that. No way. That's just not for him.

Though I guess he probably already knows what's up with me. He always does. He claims I'm easy to read, and while I'm sure this is true at least to a point, I doubt I'm so simple that he can look at me and know that I'm having problems, and that I'm now apparently gay. I mean, I was never attracted to girls, but there were no boys either.

And now there is a boy. Of sorts. A man. A very hot, incredible man, at that. I never really expected all of this. Teh, bloody fucking unrequited love or some shit like that. I wish it'd all just leave me alone.

***

_Riiiiiiing!_

End of school!

No more Near giving me odd looks!

And I get to see Mello again…

I was halfway to the dance place before I realized I didn't have a lesson for another hour or so. Great, I want to see the guy so much I forget things that are about as simple as is possible. Like times.

I'm good with times, because I don't – usually – forget these things. Apparently I do now. Oh well…

Instead of turning back to go home for a short while, and put up with Light, I just take off my tie and jumper, shoving them into my black rucksack and changing direction a little in order to buy myself a can of Red Bull that I could drink in the park that's neighboring to the studio place or whatever. Sounds like a good plan, and so I head into the small convenience store, glaring at anyone that tried to get in my way towards my nectar. I'm so overdramatic over things like my drinks.

It tastes amazing though. My mouth practically waters every time I even smell it! Now that's an addiction. Like smoking, but less hazardous. Hmm… Would I smoke? Dunno. Don't care, either. I've got bigger things to worry about right now.

Like the fact that I'm getting hard off the thought of being in the same room as Mello again.

SHIT! MONTHERFUCKING-BLOODY-DICK-SHIT!

I'm… Oh my fucking god. I didn't even realize I was thinking about my so-called dance teacher, damnit! I was just busy salivating over Red Bull, and all of a sudden, there he is, in my head, dancing around in that amazing way of his. Damn.

In a fit of annoyance, I shove over some kid that looks about twelve, grab myself two cans and rush to the counter to pay, slamming them down and giving the poor girl a death glare when she tries to say something.

Turning away from me quickly, she scans the items quickly, before giving them to me, without – I noticed – the usual comment of 'have a nice day'. I guess I don't deserve that at all, because I don't know whether today's a nice day or a bad day or what. Whatever. My current problem is that I'm going to have a gorgeous guy grinding against my ass in an hour, and I'm having problems with the mere thought of him.

I wasn't this bad this morning! I think I'm developing an illness. Or something similar. Urgh, I feel so goddamn wrong! He's an adult. I'm a kid. From what I can tell, he's just passionate about dancing, and couldn't give a shit who he exploits to get to mess around in his favorite way. Usually, I'd ask someone if he's singled anyone out like this before, but I'm actually kind of scared of what might be said.

On one hand, if they say no, I'm the only one, which is sort of freaky for a whole range of reasons. But if they say yes, then I'm not the only one… And that makes me feel a bit… Upset. Which pisses me off.

It's really a lose-lose situation, so I'll just have to live with it, I guess. Urgh. I'm already tired of this.

Oh. Throughout all of my aimless thinking, I've managed to make it to the park. Choosing my swing, I sit down, kicking at the ground a little, scuffing up my shoes worse than they already were. I've managed to get away with not being yelled at for wearing trainers for my entire school career, which is cool. It's hilarious to watch kids getting their head's bitten off for 'not wearing regulation uniform'. I've heard that so many times it's scary. Well whatever, I'm going to a 'club' that would definitely be against regulations. The system can kiss my motherfucking butt. Heh.

No, no, no! Why? WHY?! I guess I should've seen that coming. Of course, as soon as anything involving my ass comes into play, Mello jumps straight into my head with a perverted grin and techno music, generously pointing out all of the things that would in fact involve me having my butt kissed. What in the name of fuck…

Great. I'm sitting in a park, drinking Red Bull, with a hard on over a guy that's in the building barely twenty meters to my left. Woop de doo. I gotta say, it's not brilliant. Well, I'm sure that it's all fine and whatever in some freaky parallel universe, but the problem here is that it isn't in fact another universe, it's whichever one I'm currently in, and things are the opposite of brilliant.

They're bad. Very, very, _very_ bad indeed. I mean, I haven't spoken to Light all day, which is an amazing plus, but Near seems to have taken it upon himself to annoy me more than my darling brother ever did. Well, maybe I'm exaggerating. But he is very irritating at the moment. I wish he'd just go away, and not spend the entirety of every lesson answering questions perfectly while staring at me in a way that would imply that I've grown an extra head.

Oh dear crap burgers, now I'm sitting on a swing wishing my dance teacher would give me head. FUCK YOU NEAR! FUCK. YOU.

I know it isn't technically his fault, but I need someone to blame for all of these bloody annoying-as-hell thoughts that keep jumping through my head. The only thing that could currently make today worse would be if Mello came into this park and started grinding against me again. Seriously. That is the only thing on this motherfucking planet that would cause me more inconvenience.

Of course, the worst thing about parks is that they're public, so I can't get myself off before I go and dance with him again. Which means, unless I can will myself to be… not hard… then I'm stuck, since Mello spends most of his time dancing happily around my head. Not. Good.

Damnit, the whole fucking world hates me right now. There's a random couple sitting on the bench beside mine making out. Which is sweet and everything, but incredibly irritating right now, because now my peripheral vision is helping along my bloody disgusting thoughts.

I say disgusting, I suppose it's natural for your average teenage guy, but I'm everything but average. I'm smart, I'm a gaming genius, and I've been single for my entire life, meaning I have about the same amount of experience as a motherfucking slug. Oh yeah, and my confidence has been nose diving since I realized I can no longer do a lot of the things I usually can. I mean, I can figure out random mathematic formulas in my head. Maths is easily my worst subject, but I'm still good at it. But I can't do anything.

Even creative writing is causing me problems, because there's only ever one thing on my mind, and I sure as hell can't put that on paper.

I refuse to stoop so low as to start scribbling his name across everything and anything though. How could I do something so pathetic?! Answer: I can't. No way. I won't let myself start acting like a total girl. That'd absolutely kill me, and Near would be certain to notice after that. Who wouldn't? It'd be like stamping the words across my forehead – "I'm crushing on Mello!" – in big, fancy, neon pink letters.

Honestly, how do people deal with this shit? Oh wait, of course, most people don't end up with crushes on their goddamn motherfucking teachers. Well. Some girls do, I guess. I've heard that Linda person going on about her Art teacher like he's sex incarnate. Which is impossible, since Mello appears to have taken that role.

Oh. Weird-ass thought right there. What if Mello was also an Art teacher?! That'd be so creepy. I mean, I only know about a half of the teachers in my school, so it isn't impossible… I guess I might ask her. Urgh. Woo, I get to have a conversation with someone that has roughly the same IQ as dead leaves. Yaaay.

It takes me a short while after all of this to get bored of imagining the many things that might happen during my next dance lesson – which incidentally starts in about forty-five minutes – and drinking my Red Bull into non-existence. So, I do the only thing that seems sensible.

I put myself in a room with a pervert. By my own will, as well. I actually chose to go and torture myself with staring at his motherfucking body.

He's actually wearing leather today. Last time, he was wearing some other tight shit, but definitely not _that_ stuff. I mean… Oh shit, does that look good…

Leather trousers, practically forming a second skin, they're so tight! Awesome thing about that is you can properly see all of his muscles working as he dances. And… Oh holy crap, he… Um… Wow. I guess. I can't think of anything to say to that. Uh… Well shit.

His vest is leather too, but looks sort of padded? Something like that. The zip's half undone, so I can see his chest, partially. Mm… Urgh, there's something up with me today. But… Seriously.

His hair's just the same, hanging down to his shoulders, looking perfect. I really want to run my fingers through it… I know that's weird, but I would bet anything it's just as goddamn soft as it looks. Oh for the love of fuckery, what is with me and my inability to keep my hormones under control today?! I mean, sure, I've been staring at the majority – fine, all – of him, but honestly… Huh, I bet he'll notice as well.

Though, he's doing a pretty good job of ignoring me right now. Either that, or he's too absorbed in his – slutty but sexy – dancing to have even realized I'm here. Wow. I'm always hyperaware of my surroundings, even when I'm doing something like gaming. I don't get how anyone can just… zone out like that. Impossible…

Oh. Oh shit. He's staring directly at me, with a very, very sexy smirk on that perfect face of his. Alright, I'll just forget trying to act like I'm not totally head over heels for the guy. I dunno why I feel like that, but apparently I do, so whatever. I'll just live with it. Yeah.

My eyes keep fucking travelling downwards. Shit. I mean, sure, the way he's moving does bring extra attention to that, and his efforts definitely aren't wasted. Fucking shit, I think I'm actually drooling. Over a person. A guy. Something that definitely ISN'T my beloved Red Bull. Fuck.

He can tell. He knows what's going through my head, I can sense it. Fuck. He's impossible. Impossibly beautiful, impossibly annoying, impossibly just about everything. How dare he have this effect on me! I'm calm. I'm cool. I'm collected. I'm most certainly not a hot and bothered kid.

Sad thing is, those two sets have reversed themselves now. I'm no longer Matt; calm extraordinaire. I'm Matt; needs to wank off. Just another vulgar teenager in this lousy excuse for a world. Damn. I hate my life so much right now, you wouldn't believe.

My guess right now is that he wants me to come over and dance with him. Well no fucking way is that gonna happen. No. Way. I fold my arms to show my awesome defiance, but instead of me going over to him, he comes over to me. Ohmyfuckingshit. He's sort of stopped dancing, and he's walking over, hips swaying in such an amazingly attractive way.

I know he's expecting me to put my hands on him. Just the way he's grinning shows he waiting for it. No. Must not put hands on his incredibly sexy, leather clad hips… Damn, this isn't helping me much. And everyone knows school trousers aren't designed to not show problems such as mine.

I want to touch him so badly! Argh! Damnit! Damn, damn, _damn_! This is so unfair! I don't wanna play along, so I can't let myself get pulled into dancing with him. Not now. No!

Apparently he could see that I wasn't going to cooperate with him, so he just took my goddamn hands and pulled me against him, before wrapping my arms around his body. Oh my fuck. I know it's totally off, but… His leather feels nice to me. I mean, leather had a really smooth texture.

I swallow, attempting to keep myself in control, forcing myself not to let my hands wander up to the expanse of skin above the waistband of his fucking sexy trousers. I mean, sure, this way my hand's are almost glued to his ass, but that's better than me attempting to keep control after I've got to actually…

Oh for the love of crap! And he's dancing with me again. Ok, so it's more the lame swaying thing that kids do with slow music at school disco's. He's put his arms around my neck, and he's smirking at me in such an evil way. I'd be scared, but I'm sort of… transfixed.

You know, I was never much of a fan of the whole slow-dancing thing, but the music's sort of sweet, for him anyway. I'm so used to him belting out techno at volumes that should've killed everyone in the room. Enhanced bass for the win, in my opinion, but yeah. I think it's actually All Time Low, which is alright. God though, I keep forgetting to move with him, and damn is it problematic!

His hands are starting to move from my shoulders, which is… Um… I should be stopping this. Isn't this pedophilia? That's bad. More than that, this is fucking illegal! Oh fucking shit… He's just grinning at me, like he knows exactly what I'm thinking and he doesn't care. And that's probably true, too. He doesn't care if things aren't meant to happen.

From what I've figured from his personality, he just takes what he wants. And I do mean 'takes'. Mm… That thought is far, far too attractive to me right now.

"C'mon, Fiery, loosen up.." His words sting straight through me, and I finally manage to get the strength in my arms to shove him away. He looks shocked. No, he looks absolutely pissed off. It's not that I don't think he's amazing gorgeous or anything… It's just that… This isn't me! I don't dance with adults I barely know, and I sure as hell don't need him talking to me in that sexy-ass husky voice.

I think he thinks that I don't want him. I do, don't get me wrong, but… I don't know! I don't know what I'm getting myself into here. It's my fault, obviously, I was the one who got here early, but… Fuck.

He tugs me back to him in a pretty violent sort of way, growling furiously. I do that sometimes… I can't really appreciate it though, since I'm completely stuck with his eyes. They're so expressive! I'm wearing my goggles, so everything's been tinted, but I remember the blue shade of his eyes perfectly, and I can see the way they're flashing furiously.

He's absolutely breath-taking when he's mad. And I'm almost fainting, like a fucking girl. For the love of hell, I need to stop acting like such a bloody female! I'm a tough sort of guy, generally, but he's completely got me here. Urgh. He's about to start yelling at me, I can feel it. It wouldn't even surprise me if he pulled a gun out at me, to be completely frank. He's just that kind of person.

I think he said something, and now he's even angrier that I didn't reply. He looks about ready to punch the living shit out of me, so I quickly concentrate.

"Huh?" Oh wow, Matt, your vocabulary is amazing. So amazing it allowed you to make a sound. For the love of… Urgh.

"I said, Firehead, if you could do me the courtesy of _listening_, why won't you fucking _dance_ with me?" He's got his smirk back, and I can't tell if I'm more worried about the grin or the scowl. They both seem to signify dire things.

I swallowed, wondering how I could reply, without irritating him further. I don't want to be attacked or anything. Even if by 'attacked' I mean get laid. Now, as sure as I am that there's a large number of people who wouldn't complain, I'm one of the few people that would actually object. I mean… Well, I don't wanna do that shit. I mean, I've got the whole 'never been kissed' thing going on. Which isn't really suprising, since I spend all of my time playing videogames and generally not being around other human beings. Seriously. If I told someone I'd been on a date, they'd probably laugh themselves shitless, and not believe a word I was saying.

I wouldn't believe me either, though. Hah. I'm such a loner, I swear… I mean, my best friend is just as antisocial as I am. We're two kids that hate everyone around us, but we still stick together, just for company, I suppose. I reckon Near just wants someone to be superior to, though.

I only noticed that Mello was getting pretty damn mad at my lack of response when he grabbed the front of my school shirt, tugging me off the ground so that I was at eyelevel to him. Gasping, I struggled to reach the ground, but I was definitely a few inches from being capable of that, so I could only hope that he didn't fucking let go of me.

I just had a growth spurt, see, so although I'm taller and shit, my balance is useless. I'll just fall the hell over onto my ass, and then he'll probably decide to fuck with my head some more while he's all advantageous and stuff. Not that he isn't now, of course. I think he can tell I'm actually a little intimidated now, what with my inability to reach the floor.

I hate it when people have full control over a situation, so my survival instinct kicked in, I guess. It's not a great reflex, though.

I grabbed hold of his wrists, digging my nails in as much as I could. Of course, I should've figured by his scar that he wasn't the sort to be easily hurt. I expect he'd been through worse than having some teenager try and break the skin of his wrist. Especially when said teenager had crapped up, short, bitten down nails.

He actually laughed. Laughed right in my face, and I went limp in an instant, like some sort of bloody spell. I stared at him mutely, hoping to hell he'd just let me go and ignore me until the dance lessons began. Damn, I sound so retarded saying that. 'Like yah, I go to, like, dance lessons!' Urgh. I hate American films sometimes.

I gotta say, he's possibly the only person I know that can actually make me feel even vague apprehension towards my life. He's smirking in his evil-ass way again, and next thing I know, I'm pressed up against a wall – still incapable of being on flat ground, even a little bit – with a leather-clad knee pressed up against my crotch, a hand wound tightly into the collar of my shirt, almost suffocating now, and the other to the side of my head.

I have to say, this is possibly one of the most horribly compromising positions I've ever had the misfortune to be in. I know I can't try and squirm free, because I'll only end up with a worse problem than the one I've currently got, I can't push him away, because I'll end up sitting on the floor… I can't think of anything. Both of my hands are wrapped around the wrist at my throat, trying to stop him from murdering me too much.

His leg is shifting slightly, and I actually have to bite my lip to restrain any sounds. What in the fuck… Is he doing to me? Why..? Oh shit.

He's growling again, at my lack of response at all. I assume he's too pissed off to notice my blush. Well. I think I'm blushing, my face feels horribly hot all of a sudden.

"Oh, Matty-boy, why won't you behave for me?" he asked, in mock desperation, tutting at me quietly. I actually feel younger than I am right now, what with the onslaught of feelings and the way he's talking to me. Fuck, fuck, fuck! "I would've been happy if you'd just listened to me to begin with, and danced with me when I asked…"

Wait, he called me Matty? I… Hmm. He knows my name. And he still refers to me as Fiery or Firehead? Gah. Rude bitch. I should be replying. Apologizing.

He starts to actually fucking grind his knee against me, and I immediately release his wrist to clap my hands over my mouth.

"F-fuck, sorry!" I don't believe I actually yelped. I mean, I'm… Ok, forget all the shit about me being calm. I feel like I've gone bright red, and he's currently tracing the strap of my goggles with the hand that isn't holding me up. He'd better not take off my goddamn fucking goggles. I swear, I would have to kill him is he gets so much as a scratch on them… Ok, so I wouldn't kill him, I'd go buy some new ones. I'd probably just let him break every single goddamn fucking pair. Shit.

He's smirking like a fucking maniac. I guess he liked my reaction. Jackass.

"I don't think you mean it." Well that sounds bad. The fact that he was grinning when he said it sure as hell doesn't help. I wish I was capable of yelling that yes, I did mean it, and could he please put me down now. But I can't, because I'm currently being moved up the wall, so I'm maybe a centimeter taller than he is, and I suddenly comprehend what he's about to do.

He loosened off his grip, and I feel back against his leg, while he recaptured the parts of shit that he'd had to release to let me slide back down. Oh fucking hell! I think I squeaked. Bloody fuck…

He continues this for about ten motherfucking minutes, and it took all of my willpower to stay silent – minus a few odd squeaks and groans, but can you blame me, damnit?! – before literally dropping me to the ground in a horny mess.

I act casual as I stand up, shoving my hands into my pockets, before checking the time. This room's gonna be flooded in about five minutes, which is all I need. And he's going to act like nothing happened, then spend two hours grinding against my butt. Just what I need to help my problems.

I don't even have anything to distract me, so I just lean against the same expanse of wall I was just dry-humping – unwillingly, I might add – against trying to pretend nothing had happened. He just went back to his motherfucking dancing, and if my pants could've been tighter, they would've been. But that's sort of horribly impossible, because I reckon if I got too much harder, I'd actually collapse from it all.

I was right; in three minutes a whole crowd piled into the room, completely oblivious, and I pushed away from my now-warm-and-comfortable wall in order to join Mello's class. He looks like he's in a pretty fucking good mood, which is pissing me off. Everyone else seems to have noticed too; I can hear a few whispers basically involving what's put Mello in such a good motherfucking mood.

So I added the cussing. What's the difference? You get the same conclusion. I notice no-one's bothered asking me if I know why Mr. Teacher's so happy, despite the fact that I was actually here before everyone else. Though I would've told them the same as anyone else: "I don't know."

He's talking, but I can't be assed to listen to what he's got to say. He's been causing me hell-loads of problems, even if he doesn't know it, so I don't see why I should extend any general courtesy towards him. Douche bag. Once he's done talking, he calls me up to the front – again – to 'demonstrate' or whatever. Oh, no, I just need to have partner. My fucking bad.

Why does he have to do everything in his power to get away with touching me as much as possible? Within milliseconds of me being in arms reach, I get pulled against him, so that my back is pressed firmly to his chest. And as sexy as I'm sure this is and all, all I can notice is that he's apparently pretty fucking hard. Yup, this is officially just going to be him doing me through clothes. Argh.

I hadn't actually noticed that music was still playing, but evidently it was, since he was moving in time with it, his hands at my hips, moving me with him.

Oh for the love of fuck… This is so awkward. I mean, it's not the dancing is really difficult and I'm making a muck of it, but I feel awkward dancing like this with the guy that was just trying to make me moan. Loudly, probably. Or maybe he just wanted to gauge my reactions… Either way, I didn't like it in my head as much as my body seemed to. Fuck.

Alright, forget who's standing behind you, forget who's hands are currently gliding across your body, Matt, calm down and fucking move! And with that beautiful pep talk to myself, I sighed inwardly, doing my best to move my hips in time with his.

I'd like to say it's not so bad when you get into it, but it was worse, definitely. Because the thing was, I was getting into it. Far too into it, in my opinion. I didn't actually realize I was quite as fluid… Damn. I think Mello's surprised as well, but that's sort of to be expected. I doubt he would've expected any cooperation at all after what he went and did.

I suppose I just sort of hoped that it'd end faster if I just accepted what I have to do and deal with it, but the clock seemed to be going slower and slower as I felt Mello get decidedly more solid against my general behind area. Fuck.

I just put up with it, though, hoping to hell that it'd just stop, finally, if I didn't struggle or anything, just move to the music or whatever. Nope. Instead, I could feel strong hands beginning to slip from my waist to run across my stomach and chest slowly, and I was intensely glad that everyone was working too hard on not being screamed at to pay any attention to us. I had to grit my teeth and put up with all of this. Just because I knew if I did anything out of line – in his fucked up, bitchy opinion – he'd be ripping at my throat with a bloody machete. No pun intended.

And so, it wasn't until he actually had the fucking audacity – maybe that's the wrong word, but still – to shove his hand up my fucking shirt that I finally did anything to stop him.

With a gasp, I spun away from him, shoving him sharply. That didn't really earn the reaction I had hoped for. Instead, he grabbed hold of my wrists, twisting them until I was forced to face away from him again, my arms twisted behind my back painfully. Everyone was staring now. Fuck, fuck, _fuck._

"Never, _never_, do that," he hissed into my ear, making he shiver a little. The threat in his voice was so visible it felt like it was trying to kill me all on it's own. Damn.

He slowly released me, screaming at everyone to get the hell on with it, only – for one – with more colourful language than I use. And that's saying something.

After that, the lesson was relatively uneventful – I had a Mello grinding against me for the majority of two hours – and I guess he finally noticed the time and told us all to piss off.

To be frank, I'm going to have to review calling these 'lessons'. After all, the only thing I'm learning is just so horny my teacher is. Which isn't something that I really want to know. At all. But of course, I get called back when I try and flee.

"Hey, Matt! Get your fucking ass back here right now," he snapped, and I could do nothing but obey him. I dunno why, but I did. Dickhead. I turn slowly, my feet dragging while I pace slowly back to him.

"Yup?" he was smirking again, but I'm not sure it was in his usual, pervy-ass douche way. Less evil. Well, possibly less evil, anyway. I dunno. I don't meet so many evil guys. Minus him. And Light. And Near, of course. So, the three people that I know particularly well are all evil, doesn't that say a lot about me? Maybe that's a little mean. Near isn't a total jackass the whole time… At any rate, he's better than the other two.

Maybe I'm being a little harsh on Mello. I'm sure he's nice and shit, when you aren't pissing him off, like I seem to do. Why do I always seem to have that effect on people? I hate it.

"I thought you'd be pretty crap this lesson. You surprised me." I guess that's a good thing, so I smile. And he smiles back.

Actually smiles! Not just his usual lopsided smirk that emits waves of pure death to anyone unfortunate enough to receive one, but a real smile. Genuine. Kind. Wow that's weird.

I figure I should leg it after that, so with an awkward man-wave (that means I wiggled my fingers and blushed like an idiot) I ran for my life, almost forgetting my backpack in my hurry to get away from him and not die from over-excitement. Meaning, hurrying to get home and jerk off. I'm so going to hell. Though, it could be worse. Mello could be a porn star… Fuck that was a bad thought to have.

I'm almost dying by the time I get home; my mind's been torturing me for the entire journey. 'Look Matt! If you'd done this, _this_ would've happened!', plus a lot of very graphic images to explain this to me. Shit. I mean, sure, I could've done whatever, and it could've ended up… however… but I didn't, so why am I telling myself all of this?! I was never really one to live off what ifs, and all of a sudden, here they all are.

Light's yelling at me. I assume he's either attempting to give me instructions, or ask how my lesson went. Since I'm not going to do or answer anything for him, I just acted like he didn't exist, crashing my clumsy way up the stairs, before locking myself into the bathroom.

I push the lid down on the toilet, and sit on it, drawing shaky breaths. I did just sprint whatever distance, after spending a couple of exhausting hours with Mello. That sounds so bad, even in my head.

"Urgh.." I groan a little, but I'm only half irritated at the thoughts that are jumping happily into my head. For once – the first time in my whole goddamn life, I'll add – I was actually glad of these… thoughts?... that were in my mind. I mean, it's not the first time they've all been there, and it almost certainly won't be the last, but… Yeah. I'm actually welcoming them for once. It'll make it so much easier.

I try just sort of… touching… myself plus my clothes first. I groan again, by reflex. Fuck, I'm not used to this. I mean, you'd think I would be, honestly, but… Nope. Damn, I'm so useless at all of this shit. But it feels pretty good. Embarrassing though. I mean… Light's in the house. And I definitely wouldn't put it past him to come snooping around now that I've ignored him. Fuck.

I jump to my feet, staggering a little – I'm clueless as to where my balance went, but it sure as hell wasn't with me right then – and dashing to lock the door and make it back to my original place. Maybe I should shower…? Why don't I know what I'm doing? I mean, obviously, I know how it all works and shit, but I just… Can't? Don't want to? Ack.

Of course I want to, I mean, I've been thinking about Mello since – and before – I woke up, so of course I need to… but… I dunno. For possibly the first time ever, I actually feel like a completely inferior male. I'd bet anything that the only person less experienced than me is Near. And that's pretty lame. I mean, he spends all of his time playing with toys.

Damnit, I'm stalling so badly. Urgh. Right, Matt, get the fucking hell on with it.

Lucky me, I obey myself. Meaning, I get the fuck out of my pants and underwear, and then change my mind and tug off my shirt as well – yup, my inability to undress myself in a decent order astounds even me – and flick on the water for the shower. I guess I just figured it'd feel less awkward.

The water's pretty warm, which is good. Cold water makes me feel dizzy. I'm not entirely sure why, but it always has done. Anyway.

It almost feels natural as my hand moves across my skin, in roughly the same way that Mello's were doing. Hey, yeah. My imagination will probably make it seem like it's him all over me anyway. Oh fuck, would that feel good… Mm…

My body just sort of takes over, and I groan as I slowly begin to move my hand against myself. Well fuck. At an equally, painfully sluggish pace, I wrap my fingers around my shaft, experimentally pumping myself a little.

_Moan._

Shit that feels so good! But… better… Mello's hand on me… I don't fucking believe my imagination sometimes. Fuck.

I lean back against the tiled wall of the shower, continuing to move my hand at the same, leisurely pace, moaning softly. The feelings I can supply – for once – and my almost dangerously over-active imagination does absolutely everything else for me.

I can almost _smell _the blond, practically feel him against me… I'm doing my best to keep quiet, so that Light doesn't figure. After all, I'm sure he doesn't sit around jacking off. He's got his little mind-slaves to help him out. Dickhead. Oh. _Oh._ Anger speeds up my movements, and I swear I almost collapsed. Mostly because my eyes are closed, and I have an image of an angry, smirking, growling Mello…

I wonder if I'm a masochist. Probably. I mean… A furious Mello is making me even harder. I almost don't want to believe it's all in my head, and I have to keep reminding myself, just in case I completely forget my circumstances.

"_Mello.._" My voice sounds so off, but I couldn't care less. After all… I suppose this is what happens when… Well, when it's me. I don't have any issues with my hormones, and all of a sudden, they get kicked off, and I feel like there's been about fifty tons of sexual tension weighing down on me for ages. I'm getting louder… I really wish my willpower wasn't so easily collapsed where he's concerned… But oh my fuck, I bet he's better at this shit than I am. Oh… Hot thought.

I can't really believe all this. But I really can't be assed with questioning it all right now. Or anytime particularly soon.

My hand speeds up a little every single motherfucking time an image of me and Mello appears, and more so when I keep my eyes closed and just let my head run away with me. Fucking hell…

This just sort of… continues. For a relatively short time, I suppose, before I cum in my hand. And over parts of the wall, too. I'm still groaning, and I really need to just wash myself off and get the hell out, not continue. Because I know I can easily get hard over Mello again. Fuck. Alright. Wash. Leave bathroom. Sleep.

I can do that. Though, I can see I'm in for another restless – and dancing filled – night of… Me. And him. And a lot of swearing on my half. I swear… There is something screwed up in my head, and it sort of suprises me that I'm not doing anything about it. Well.

Bad thing is, I have no idea whether or not I love him or not. I've got absolutely nothing to compare any of these brand-spanking-new emotions to. Great. I can hardly go up to him and just say "Hey, I may or may not be in love with you, and I have dream-sex with you every night, see ya." That would freak the living shit out of me. And if I was hearing it… Well, that would be far, far worse. I guess that leaves me one option. Let him do all of the forward-ness shit. Yeah. That sounds good. He can be the one to initiate any contact. Hmm. Sounds like something out of a movie. 'Initiating contact..' Well that's an odd thought.

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**Ahh, tis through, this chappy :3 In case anyone was wondering.. The chapter itself is 8,739 words. That's fuck loads more that I usually write. I had fun with this chapter... But now I'm worried that the rest are gonna pale in comparison, so I'm having my best mate [my super-special-awesome Mello :3] read over all of my chapters! Heh... Thanks to all of the epic reviewers, I glomp and hug and give cookies to you all! Yush! Heh, I'll go away now xD Buhbye!!!!**


	4. Bad Boy

**OhmyfuckingZelda. Alright, so I finally finished this chapter. It feels like freaking forever since I last updated, but it's only been... a week? Eh, something like that. But damn, is this a long chapter. And I mean seriously long. Over 11,000 words, all on it's own. But don't let that put you off, I'm quite happy with how it's turned out. I don't think there are too many mistake anywhere, and I'd just like to say now that this is officially dedicated to all of my awesome readers, and especially my Mello! Because Mels thought up almost all the ideas that got thrown into this chapter, especially near the end! *MWA* I LOVE YOU! :D Yay. Oh yeah, and because I've decided to whore out my cosplay group, I've shoved our DA and YT links up on my profile, so please, please so check them out! This is me begging!! Anyways... yeah :D Enjoy!**

**Disclaimers - I didn't create sex. I also don't own Death Note, or Cascada. Or anything, really. Other than this plot line. MUA HA HA *chokes***

**Warnings - Much boy-wanking. Yes. I mean, it is Matt, after all. Oh yeah, and language from Matty, Mels, and Lighty! Shock horror! I know, I made Mr Perfect swear. But seriously... you'll understand why. You really will xD**

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Damn, I don't believe I'm letting myself get _used _to all of this… I mean, the whole 'dream' shit is just always there, so I guess I'm just gonna sit around and ignore the fact that I'm practically drooling over him in my spare time. Which, shockingly, isn't the easiest thing to do. Especially when 'he' happens to be Mello.

I mean seriously, I bet if he had any idea how much time he spends on my mind, he'd totally screw with my head during lessons more than he already does. I sometimes wonder if he can actually read minds, because that would figure. I mean, I guess it'd sort of make sense, at least… Maybe my head is just totally fucked through the surplus of hormones skitting through me at the moment.

Probably, actually… I mean seriously. The whole waking up with that horrible, uncomfortable, wet feeling is becoming so… Usual. For me. Oh fuck.

I'm so screwed in the head! So thoroughly fucked up it's unbelievable. I mean, sure, it happens, especially to teens and all that shit, but I mean… How many unlucky bastards wake up to that every motherfucking day?! Sure, sounds like I'm exaggerating, but it's been six goddamn days! That's just plain fucking wrong. I swear. I must be the horniest teenager in this whole fucking country.

Urgh. I have to go get ready for school either way, whether I like it or not, which means yay, more Near to put up with. I mean, sure, he's nice enough, and the only person that actually puts up with me despite my currently awful temper, but he can annoy the shit out of me sometimes, I swear. He's pretty fucking socially retarded, frankly. Sure, I'm hardly the pinnacle of popularity or anything, but at least I can hold a conversation without making the other person feel socially inferior in every fucking way possible.

He makes people feel so dumb, I swear. One time, this girl, Linda? Something like that.. Anyway, she attempted to talk to him. Now, she's fine at art and all that crap, but she wasn't expecting the emotional and mental beating she got from the little Ice Prince. I think she was almost crying, but I wasn't paying much attention. The whole thing seemed to surprise Near a little. Or, it would've, if he were capable of even being surprised. Which he isn't. Bleh.

Anyway, while I think happy thoughts of albino jerks and blond jerks to jerk off to, I set about cleaning up myself and my bed – again, fucking hell, Light's gotta be getting suspicious over all of this, but if he asks, I'll tell him I caught his OCD for cleanliness, hah hah. Actually, morning showers are becoming increasingly common for me... Not that I never used to make an effort to be clean, of course I did, damnit, but I always feel the need to be a lot cleaner, to make up for… Less clean.. Stuff… Wow is that awkward.

Still. I manage to get through the shower experience without jacking off all over the place, which is good, because I'm still fucking tired and I really don't need that right now, and even get through breakfast with my daily hormonal greetings. Not that I'm complaining, because it's nice not to feel like I have to run into the nearest lockable room and jizz everywhere to make myself feel better – for the record, it doesn't make me feel any better about myself – but I have a sneaky feeling it's not gonna last. Mostly because… Well, it's me. Mello-centric thoughts are almost guaranteed at this point in time. Especially since… Oh yeah, I get to dance again today. He'd better not keep bloody grinding at my ass, because that's not much fun.

Well, it's fun, but not… And… You know what? Forget it. I can't phrase anything right now, and no suprises either, because I'm fucking distracted with trying not to break five bowls, pouring cereal out and opening the fridge. All at once. Because I'm a fucking genius like that.

I guess it's true… Guys are incapable of multitasking. Fuck it. Girls and all their retarded stereotypes can go fuck themselves… Oh wait, they can't. Hah. I'm a funny bastard. Not. Eh, anyhow…

Suprisingly, I manage to eat and get to school without murdering myself, despite my disturbingly distracted thoughts, and I don't even see Near until it gets to Registration. And he can't even talk at me during that, because we sit on opposite sides of the room. Hell yeah, I'm so lucky sometimes. Or maybe I'm not, it depends. He's staring at me funny…

Oh, duh, I forgot to wait for him before school. No wonder I didn't bloody see him, he probably took a different – quicker – route without my being there. Well isn't that just fucking magical. Still, I got to avoid a little of his now-daily interrogation about life, the universe and everything, but he'll probably make up for lost time next time he deems it suitable to speak to me. Probably break, or lunch, or something.

Eh, it'll be alright, I reckon, since I've missed at least half of his little speech, and my 'friend' doesn't like to talk too much if he can help it. Oh, unless he's outsmarting the shit out of everyone in a classroom, and generally making himself hated.

I mean, most kids would be thrilled to be told they'd given the perfect answer, especially in this shitey wiz-kid school. The questions are usually designed to be unanswerable, or trick questions, or whatever shit. Funny thing is, I almost always figure out the answer. I just can't be assed with actually sticking my hand in the air and telling the teachers shit they don't actually know, but have learnt for the sole purpose of explaining to kids about double their IQ.

I'm not even being cruel or whatever, they genuinely have no clue what the fuck's going on. I mean, once – only once, for the simple purpose of watching the poor bastard squirm – I asked the most complicated question I could come up with in ten seconds, and asked that, and the fucker stared at me like I'd grown another head. Which I know I didn't, because that's physically impossible, for me at any rate.

Maybe fucking Near'll go and figure it out, since he's such a genius. Now don't get me wrong, I don't hold grudges against him because he's smart, I hold grudges against his inability to let a subject drop until he fully understands it. This is true for my current situation; aka, me continuously zoning out with my perverted daydreams. I wish he'd let it drop, because it's sort of horribly uncomfortable, trying to not end up with a serious problem in my pants – will power alone saves me, I swear it's true – and also explaining to him that I haven't changed, he's just seeing things differently.

Which, I know, is just me bullshitting, and he knows it too, which is a major fail on my part. But honestly, I'm not going to tell him that I've started jacking off over a guy years older than I am, am I?! No. Fucking no way. Not if the jackass paid me.

That said, it'd have to depend on the money. Actually… No. Nope, not gonna happen at all. I mean, it's not worth losing a friend over something like my sexual preferences (yeah yeah, older men, whatever) just for a sum of cash. Total bullshit. See? I have my priorities, even if you never see giving some friendship-speech crap. Because past Near, and school, and permanently being horny, there's nothing that irritates me more than listening to a bunch of kids talk shit about 'friendship', when it's obvious they'd backstab everyone they're talking to just to get some cash to play at an arcade, which by the way are impossible to find around here, damnit.

But fuck… Mello's far more interesting to consider than Maths problems. It's all I can do not to drool all over the desk. I assume my eyes must've glazed over, and I zoned out, because next thing I realise something very solid's been smashed against my desk, almost making me fall out of my chair in shock.

"Oh, Matt, so nice of you to join us. Would you like to solve the problem on the board?"

Fucking teachers. Especially Takada, damn I hate her. She takes my least favourite subject too, which equals a lethal combination for me. I sigh, hoping to sound exasperated, and I had see a vein in her forehead standing out while she waits for me to at least tell her I don't know. Instead, I rattle of the answer perfectly, sigh again, run my fingers through my hair, then go back to my daydream, while she looks about ready to commit a murder. My murder. Stupid bitch.

Luckily for me, and her as well come to think of it, the bell goes relatively soon. I don't even remember what the lesson was about, to be quite frank. I'm just wrapped up in my own little world… A world that revolves entirely around doing illegal shit with the hottest guy on the planet. Illegal meaning general paedophilic shit on his part, and general fun shit on my part. Wait, fun? Urgh, I think I've made my point… Seriously, since I gave up fighting my obvious sexuality, my mind's been having a field day making all this crud up to shove into my unsuspecting conscious.

Hmm, unsuspecting… No, that's a lie. I know it's coming, and I could ignore it all if I wanted, but the fact is, I don't bother, I just let it take over me completely, and have one helluva lot of fun with it at that. Damn, there I go again with all of my 'fun' bullshit. It's not fun as much as I'm absolutely infatuated with the Mello in my head, and the things he does. Meaning, I love being horny. Maybe that's not completely true… But damn, who wouldn't not give a shit wandering around hard because of that guy?! People would sell their souls to get their hands on him… But I'm the lucky sod who gets to, without any soul-selling or the like. Well. Maybe I've sold myself to hell (presuming it exists) with my daydreams.

Classes – real ones, much to my disappointment, no Mello in my school sadly – passed really damn fast today, and I was glad to attempt to escape for break. Oh but no! I zoned out so much, my goddamn teacher reckoned something was up, and just had to take it upon himself to ask me what was wrong, if I wanted to talk, or any of that bollocks. It took almost the entire break to persuade him that no, I was fine, I just had a lot on my mind, and no I didn't want to talk about it.

Seriously, how dense can one person be? Still, I managed to escape and down a can of that pretty and delicious liquid before the bell that tells kids to get the hell to next lesson or you'll be skinned alive. The message of which I completely ignore, and make my slow way to English, turning up a couple of minutes late. Still, it could be worse. It would be Maths again. Hell, would that murder me to next week and back.

I don't understand the logic in teaching a bunch of smartasses their own native tongue. I mean, give me a page with a set of words on them, and I'll be able to figure out all the connotations and denotations without breaking a sweat. Not that deciphering the hidden meanings of words is particularly sweat-worthy. I mean, I can quote Shakespeare perfectly, and my spelling is perfect, thanks to my inability to forget how things are written, and although my handwriting isn't the neatest, it's legible, which is the main thing.

I think they do it just for the amusement of humiliating adults while they try to figure out the answers that kids give them. The only reason I don't ditch out entirely on that class is because it's priceless seeing the poor guys face when someone like Near gives their least intelligent answer to a question, and it still takes him about five minutes to figure what was just said to him.

To be fair, not everyone that teaches here is completely incompetently retarded, but there is a number. Mostly, we end up teaching ourselves shit and figuring everything out on our own, just because they can't give us the answers. It's actually probably pretty good for us, since it means we have to rely on ourselves for answers that would otherwise be unattainable. Maybe that's just me. Yeah, probably.

Still, everything continued to happily fly by without my attention on the time, or even what could've been going on around me. Nope. These… fantasies… are just too interesting to me. It's something new, I suppose, from the usual dullness of an average day. It's also sort of… nice? Whatever.

Still, I knew I'd have to put up with Near at some point, and lunch is definitely 'that point'. I wish I could abandon him, but I've got nowhere whatsoever to go instead, so I just head to the space we usually sit at, fumbling around in my pockets only to discover that I haven't got any more of my drinkable addiction. Well fuck.

However, that's far too mundane to be able to completely destroy me and make me realise I might have to pay attention, oh no. Instead, I just extract my DS from my bag and turn it on, waiting for the familiar, light pattering of feet to greet me, almost silently announcing the presence of an overly annoying albino kid.

I dunno why I always call him a kid… I guess he just seems a lot younger, since he has the whole toy fetish thing, and he's about… three inches shorter than I am? Something like that. I've never bothered to ask him his height, but I know he's short. Ok, so I also know he doesn't have a toy fetish, because that would involve him understanding sexual shit, and that's about as likely as… Um, me giving up my games and daydreaming about Mello and my Red Bull. Do you see how casually that was thrown in? No? Yeah, me neither.

Still, I suppose he knows more than I credited him with, because the first thing he says to me when he appears is this.

"Matt, I'm curious as to why you have an erection at such a seemingly unrelated point, such as now, since the only thing that might render this probably is either your games, or what is happening inside your head right now."

Nope, I didn't just yelp. Or slam my unfortunately portable gaming device against my crotch. Fuck did that hurt. Not enough to de-hard-ify myself, but hard enough to make me wince. And also remind me of what might happen tonight if Mello's dance style changes. Ouch, I'm practically… Damn I'm a pervert. I'm just going to shut up.

The main problem with Near is how observant he is. And yes, he's right, while playing Phantom Hourglass, I must've inadvertently began to switch Mello into the game, rather than Link, and due to how absorbed I was in the game, I wouldn't have noticed my 'problem'. Because I was… well, not thinking about it. And when I don't think about _that_, and I do think about _him_… Well, problems happen.

However, I didn't offer this explanation to the albino, instead I just started to panic. And squeal. I know, how bloody effeminate can I be? Still, while all of my thoughts are coherent and calm, the rest of me is in turmoil, as I jump to my feet, still screeching profanities at a confused looking Near, before sprinting away from the building. Away from school in general, actually.

I don't stop running until I've put a decent amount of space between me and school. Gah.

It hits me pretty suddenly; I'm ditching school, just because I had the fact that I'm hard pointed out to me. Seriously. That's… Childish? Pathetic maybe? I could've just laughed it off, and everything would've been fine, but no, I had to do that. Now Near's going to be even more persistent with this. I mean, I know I'd be dying from the suspense of not knowing if I were him… Although, I'm not him, and I expect he wouldn't bother getting himself in a twist just because I ran out on him. Nah. He'll just plot his next move, like the tactical douche bag he is.

Urgh, stupid… Everything. Still, I'm close to that shop, the one I usually buy my shit from, so I figure I might as well just go buy myself some more Red Bull. Yeah, sounds like a fucking epic plan.

It's great, there's no irritating kids to shove away from Oasis in order to reach _my_ can. I hate Oasis. I mean, the advert for it is completely retarded, and… Yeah. I don't like it. I don't like much, actually, other than water, milk, and obvious my beautiful RD. Yes, I'm running out of names for it. Whatever.

I didn't notice the two cops chatting to the cashier before it was far too late; aka just as I started to pay. Well fuck. Here I am, full school uniform, with two policemen hanging out between me and the exit. They don't seem to have seen me yet, so all I need to do is pay, and leg it.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" The grating voice of the old woman taking my money was far too loud for my liking. And the police guys aren't fucking deaf, either, which means… Fuck. It wouldn't have been to bad if I'd made up an excuse, but I'm currently more agitated than I've even been before in my life after the tiny situation with Near.

Essentially, my movements were horribly suspicious and all that, but I wasn't gonna get towed back to Hell, was I? No. So, I grab my cans, and leg it out of the building as fast as I can. They're actually running after me. … The fuck?! I'm faster than two middle aged dickheads though, so I've got an obvious advantage. Plus, it helps that I know my way round here. If I didn't, I can safely say that I'd be royally screwed. And not in the wonderful Mello way.

Though, I don't really want to push my luck too much – my stamina is appalling, seriously, I can only manage to get off once before I need to sleep, and with that blond stuck permanently in my head, that's really bad – so as soon as I can't see them anymore, I dash into the first building I come across with an unlocked door. Now, I would've laughed if it'd been a police station, but as it happens, it wasn't.

Instead, I ended up in a brightly lit lobby, complete with bright flowers in big pots, and a desk, housing a very bored looking secretary… Oh I know this place. I've ended up in Mello's motherfucking domain. Well that's great.

With a quiet sigh, I wave cheerily to desk-girl, who glowers at me in response, and head towards the Room Of Ultimate Dancing Sexiness. Well, that's what is it, after all. I mean, Mello spends time in that room. Ergo, Dancing Sexiness. Duh. Makes perfect sense, at least, it does when you're hormone driven, like I am.

To be honest, I wasn't expecting him to be there. I mean, I don't really believe me lives there, but… Well, he spends just about all his life there, from what I can tell. I mean, I'm early by hours, but he's still there, hips moving seductively to loud music.

Ok, so seductively implies that he both knows I'm standing here and also wants me to… Uh… Yeah. Anyway. Probably the wrong choice of words, right? Right. Yeah. Um. I find it sort of amusing, in a sick kind of way, that my eyes automatically gravitate towards his ass. Though, he does have a _very_ nice ass. I mean, it's… I'm not going to go and describe exactly what I think about that.

Hmm. I guess if he's a pedophile, then I'm a pervert. Actually, he's a pervert as well, since he's the one who started it all, what with the grabbing my butt at inappropriate times when everyone else was paying zero attention and all that. Not that I'm complaining… I just refuse to believe I'm the only fucked up one here. Because I'm not. Hell no. I mean, sure, I spend all of my time touching myself to thoughts of an adult – illegal! Fuck it – but he started it. That sounds so childish. I bet he doesn't spend any time at all jacking off. He's just too… Mature. Is that the right word? Maybe not.

Damnit though, he moves so nicely… Like… he's liquid or something. Just kind of suspended in the most gorgeous leather in existence, while he acts like the room's dissolved into nothingness. Mmm… Yeah, there's that hard on that Near mentioned. Definitely there, and not happy about my ignoring it in order to stare at Mello.

Because I can't do both. Hell fucking no. Because then I'd be standing here, jacking off, while Mello dances maybe five metres away. And while that'd be as sexy as hell in my head, in reality, it probably wouldn't end all that well. Especially since I have this whole 'Must not do anything that adds up to indecent exposure' thing. And that definitely equals… Indecent. In every motherfucking way. Yeah… Huh.

He probably does know I'm here, since he always seems to know when I turn up, which is… creepy. But still. I'm hardly the quietest person, and I'm currently considering opening my can. Or does that make it like my own personal show? Huh. Weird thought. I'm really damn thirsty though… And the fact that he happens to be right there has nothing to do with anything. I mean… My throat just happens to have gone completely dry, and I just happen to… Yeah, fuck this. I want to go and glomp the hell out of him, and then some, plus some obviously dodgy shit going on while I do that, just to make my imagination feel better. Yeah. Whatever.

I barely even notice as he makes his way over to me, hips swinging in a very hot sort of way. Hmm. I glance up momentarily, and realise his eyes aren't fixated on my face. Oh no. He went and had a Near-noticing moment. Fuck. Fucking shity damn… Bastard. He's grinning like a motherfucking Cheshire cat, while I'm standing here blushing like an idiot. Damn.

I mean, of all the things, the pervert could do, he had to go and make me even more excited at all this. He's going to take advantage of this, I can sense it. And not as in I'm gonna get off nicely, as in he's gonna screw around until I leg it to a bathroom or cream myself, which I won't let happen, not ever. Shit. I've got more control than that. I can last until I can lock a door and trap myself momentarily in a small space. I wouldn't just… Nope, this isn't making my situation any better, because my head's putting Mello into that small space with me. Sex-ay. I'm so lame.

He's looking at me now, smirking in a horribly and sexily dangerous way. I swear, he likes to sit around emitting massive waves of pure sex. Though, to make it worse, he never sits, he always… moves. A lot. In the most attractive ways possible as well.

Shit.

Ok, so the guy of my almost permanent daydreams is standing in front of me, still smirking evilly, and my imagination is running away with me while I think about what he'd be like to kiss. Fuck. Hormones and sexual attraction are bad for me, I swear. I'm fucking insane, and I'm thinking like a motherfucking girl. Damn. DAMN!

He finds my general appearance of insecurity hilarious, naturally. Because that's just so damned Mello. Laugh at the inferior beings, why don't you, you jackass… Urgh, I'm insulting him in my head. I suppose I must be going mental, because with anyone else I'd just out and say exactly what I was saying, then wander off before they've actually realised I just insulted them.

Of course, I can't possibly insult Mello. Fuck no! He's far too perfect, even if he does spend a lot of time being a whiney bastard, I know I'd never be capable of my usual jerk-like backchat with him. I suppose I'd just submit to everything he does and says, just because he's gorgeous as hell and my… uh, area… likes him a lot. No, that's not it. I just can't place it, I suppose. It's impossible for me to make assumptions, but I guess I'd be happy just… I don't even know. I'll give up trying to figure out why I don't protest to him – for now at least – because he's currently sliding a hand around my waist, inviting me to dance with him.

Unexpected. He isn't tugging at me harshly. I didn't mean that in a totally off way, I merely meant that I sort of assumed I'd be dragged across the room in order to be danced with, not slowly moved to the centre of the room by way of his arms around me.

I guess I was expecting the rest though, but that didn't stop me from gasping and blushing a shade darker as I feel his hands against my ass. Not directly my ass, since he has the manners to not stick his hands down my pants, but still. He's smirking again, his perpetual movement making me feel stiffer than before. He's murmuring in my ear, I assume he's trying to tell me to loosen up. Again. According to him, I have a lot of loosening up to do.

Sadly, as much as I'd like my goddamn fucking pants to loosen up, that's not going to happen, because he's doing the whole grinding thing again. Why doesn't he understand personal space?! Why?

Well sure, my mind's thrown up far worse shit than this, as far as 'intimacy' is concerned, but… Well, this is real life. There's a big difference, especially to me. Course, that doesn't stop me from almost melting into him as one of his hands slides up my back, toying with the hair at the nape of my neck, before winding into the crimson.

I was almost expected to be pulled into a kiss from that – hey, hey, I've seen some romance movies, don't get me wrong, I'm not just a total pervert, I have a romantic side as well – but instead I just found my face pressed against his shoulder. He smells good, like chocolate. For once, my memory fails at to whether or not I've noticed his scent before. Possibly.

I'm not a massive fan of candy or sweet stuff in general, but he smells really good… As in, absolutely fucking mouth watering. That's actually a really freaky thought.

Oh. He changed the music. It's not the hardcore jump beat it was before, it's… slower. Calmer? Yeah. Definitely. He's still sticking to his usually dance style though, even if it is a little more downbeat than usual. More gentle. Huh. He has a soft side? What is this bullshit?

Oh. That's weird… I think he's breathing in all of my … scent?... as well. I doubt it's particularly good. I probably smell of Red Bull and hormones. Is it possible to actually smell hormonal? Damn, now I want to find out. I also really want to go find myself a toilet I can lock myself in until I'm through. Fuck. It'd be pointless though, because then I'd b back in this room with him, and I get hard a minute or so into thoughts of him, and hard within seconds of being in the same room as him, and knowing I can see him, and that… No. Stop there. That sounds ridiculously perverted.

I have a feeling all of this lovely, gentle shit is going to end as soon as this track does, and then he'll probably spin me and grind. His proper style. Something like that. Fuck, that sounds so… dodgy. Really, really dodgy. Good though. I sort of… want him to? Nah… Then I'd be really fucked in the head. Majorly. Damn. Yup, I'm officially screwed up, and all because I got excited that one time. Because uh… Stuff… happens? Yeah. Stupid shit happens, and now I've ended up dragged into something that I can't really say I regret at all. Because… Well, it's Mello. Right?

I was so right. As soon as the track changed, it was suddenly like dances lessons all over again, with a Mello standing behind me, and grinding – always grinding, I swear! Argh.. – with his hands carefully dictating all of my movements, making sure it's all perfect. I keep tripping up over my own feet though, and I can feel his impatience, despite his attempts to slow down, and explain, non verbally, exactly what I'm meant to be doing.

Hell knows how long it all went on for, I was far to distracted with trying not to fall to my imminent death and also making my best attempts to not end up with a fucking shitty issue in my trousers. And by shitty I mean… Well, not shit, that's for sure. Because I don't have spare pants with me, strangely I don't make a habit of carrying doubles of everything around with me. Maybe I should do that. It might save me some trouble, after all. Well shit.

How can he manage that?! His hands are fucking on my thighs, but I can't tell any difference – other than obviously his hands, duh – between his current position and his previous one. He just… manages it all. Argh, this is so harsh. It's definitely a loss if I start to try and escape, or make any sounds or anything, despite his constant possibly-reassuring probably-perverted murmurs into my ear, none of which I can really hear, since I'm definitely far too distracted by… Well, it's kind of blatant why I can't concentrate. Hands messing with my crotch much?!

If I wasn't so well trained with being calm – which I'm not, but the point still stands – I'd definitely have ruined my pants by now. It's probably good that I'm not a usual guy, because any average gay dude would almost definitely have had some cleaning to do before this point, so I suppose… Special genius dork school hasn't been too bad. Even if this wasn't the expected situation. But fucking hell, if Mello isn't the most fucking erotic person to be in a room (to me, at any rate) I dunno who is. I mean… He's… And… Oh… I can't talk. Possibly because his hands are sort of… In an awkward area. There's a high possibility I'm gonna have to fucking leg it out of this room in about ten seconds if he keeps that up.

Damn on a fucking sandwich. Dunno why a sandwich, but one of them anyway. Who cares?! I'm about to have pant-related issues, I honestly couldn't give a fuck about where I'm putting my curses. Argh, gotta run… But it feels good… But… And… Oh fuck it, I'm outta here.

Or I would be, if he wasn't so frigging strong. I mean seriously, how many other people have the power to keep someone in place just by… Putting their hands there?! Fuck. Shit. Damn. Crap. I can't think of anything more at this point. Other than maybe what a shame it is that Mello isn't a little younger. Then I wouldn't be constantly worried about the police bursting in all guns blazing. Though Mello seems like the kind of person who'd just whip out a gun of his own (dunno where from though, his clothes are so _tight_…) and shoot them all stone dead.

Uhn…. Really need to run… I refuse to embarrass myself further. I'm already highly humiliated that he can _feel_ what he does to me, let alone.. That. Yeah, not what I need right now. I have a feeling there's a freaking ridiculously bright blush on my face right now, but I honestly couldn't give a shit. Why? Because I'm a horny little bastard with no self-control whatsoever.

Yeah, yeah, maybe I'm being lame to myself, but so what?! So fucking what?! I've got a Mello grinding against my fucking butt, and he's not letting up much at all. It's all I can do not to just dissolve into a moaning, creamed-out mess. God-fucking-damn it. No, I actually have to get out of here. Now. Quickly. And find a motherfucking toilet, damnit! Why did I never scope this place out? It would've been so much better for me right now if I knew the building plan. Urgh.

I quite literally shove Mello off me, doing my best to ignore the way he almost instinctively grabs hold of me – hello, his hands are still down on my pants fuck it! – and attempt to not sprint out of the room, instead trying to casually saunter out, in my usual, 'I-don't-give-a-shit-so-leave-me-alone' way, but that fails, and as soon as I'm out of the door I'm running my faster to find the goddamn loos – that's an odd word, I just realised, but.. yeah – and not notice the amount of friction that's cause to me by running. Fuck again. DAMNIT.

It doesn't actually take me that long, just a set of stairs and another short, yet very bright corridor and voila, one set of cubicles I can lock myself into. Which I do. Quickly.

I quickly undo my trousers, leaning back against the now-thoroughly-closed door with a slightly too-blissful smile as my Tetris boxers – yes I'm a dork, so bite me – meet the same fate as my school-regulation pants. Mm, damn, Mello did a damn good job. I doubt it'll take me all that long to finish myself off, though I try to draw it out so that I don't have to go back to that dangerous room for too long before the dance lesson starts up.

Why did Light have to do this to me? I mean, I wouldn't say I really regretted meeting Mello, I have nothing against the guy, and hot damn is he gorgeous, but it sucks that now my self control hangs on a single thread that's puppeteered completely and entirely by him. I mean, I used to only answer to myself. Not even my fucking mother – she left me for 'Mr Yagami', that 'lovely man' she 'met down the pub'. Lots of nice quote marks there – and definitely not Light of anyone else. But then he's here and it's like… Damn.

I barely even noticed how loudly I was moaning as I jerked off because of my stupid distractions. Which still involved thinking about him, and I barely heard the small snigger that followed. Wait. I said barely, but I know it was there. Why? Because Matt Jeevas doesn't mishear anything, ever.

I can't help but ignore it though, as I climax, inadvertently groaning out '_Mello!_' as I do so. Fuck. Laugh almost forgotten now, I clean off my hands and anything else that looks vaguely less clean than it was before and redo my pants so that they're back in their proper place (aka on my damned body, not somewhere round my knees or thighs) before flushing the toilet – hah fucking hah, that's hardly helping me be inconspicuous, because I was practically yelling there – and exiting the safety of my teeny cubicle.

Lo and behold, who's standing outside? Who's leaning casually against the wall beside the sinks, arms folded, and a dangerously amused look on his face? Who's blond and gorgeous and utterly lethal in every way? Mello, of fucking course. I can actually feel the blood flood back to my face and groin as I stare at him, slowly moving to wash my hands, eyes still glued to him, trying to stay at his face and not take in the rest of his figure, which I've already accidentally memorised, thanks very much, and he watches me in return, not even bothering to make his downwards glances less obvious. I'd notice either way, and I reckon he probably knows this.

But still, it's making my pants unreasonably tight again to see him glancing there every ten seconds. I dunno why. Apparently I like to be looked at or something equally retarded. Urgh. Damnit. Why does he have to be so suggestively and seductively gorgeous. More importantly, why do I have to like him so much that simply looking at him gets me going? Why, why, why?

I ask too many questions, sometimes. Well, I was brought up to question shit, but this is just too much, really. I can't give myself answers, so I need to drop it before I get pissed off over it. Damn. I suppose it's a little too late for all that shit about not getting pissed, because I'm already fucking furious at him for coming after me and overhearing me while I moan and groan and yell his name out. I mean serious. If that's not an invasion of privacy, almost nothing fucking is. Other than if he'd actually unlocked the door and gotten himself in with me… Damn that would've been fucked up as hell.

The water's fucking boiling. Yes, I've had my hands stuck under it for the past five minutes – so I was busy thinking, fuck off – but that's hardly my fault, is it? He's doing his best not to laugh, I can tell, and damn is it annoying. Ok, so yeah, I was just staring at him for ages for no apparent reason. Oh yeah, and I'm almost drooling because I left my mouth open for too long and forgot to swallow. Well, if this isn't a geek in love… Wait, I don't love Mello… Do I? No… I mean, I like him, but surely not love… I mean, I'm not one to just fall in love just like that. I'll keep an eye on these feelings and see how they develop. I won't fight them. Just watch. Like he's been doing.

Pervert.

I mean, following me to the frigging bathrooms when he knows what problem I'm having is a little too far, even by his standards. So I was more waiting for him to grab me inappropriately again and cause me even more problems. Naturally, it was a bit of a surprise when he pulled me into another hug, the same as he had when I'd just arrived at the studio place, his arms carefully wound around me like I'm delicate or something. Damn.

So just as I'm questioning whether or not I love the guy, he goes and acts like he's all sweet and kind and shit. Not. Helpful. Not in the slightest. Damn I'm so confused.

It takes me a while to realise he isn't gonna let ago until I respond, so I hesitantly return the gesture, leaning my cheek against his shoulder lightly. I can practically hear his self-satisfied smirk, the fucking wanker. So going with literality, I might be a tiny bit hypocritical calling him that, but I'm not taking this literally, I'm just insulting him, damn it!

I wish he didn't know exactly what he does to me, because if he didn't, he wouldn't be sneakily – I assume he was trying to be sneaky about it anyway – rubbing his leg back and forth, just a tiny bit, but enough to cause friction. Sweet, sweet friction… Urgh, fuck, fuck, _fuck_! This isn't what I need, especially not right after I just masturbated. I mean, I'm obviously in a slightly different state of mind what with all the hormones and all, but fucking hell does he like to fucking be a bloody tease. Life is so shitty when Mello decides to go and spoil what was previously an almost tender moment. It's less subtle now… More like 'Hey, look at me, look at what I do to you, look how pathetic you are'. Maybe.

Ok, so I'm doing my best not to groan, but I do extract myself from the embrace, leaving the bloody toilets quickly and stamping down the corridor to the stairs, very aware of him following me this time, and very, very fucking aware of the fact that he's started walking beside me, hand 'casually' attaching itself to my fucking ass. Shit.

So, he's a perverted douche bag who refuses to stop doing everything he can to stimulate me. Unfair. Very unfair actually, because so far I haven't noticed too much of a reaction to it all on his side. Although, it's highly possible that the tightness of his clothes means that it makes very little difference either way. I mean, occasionally I do notice something – now I sound like the perv, fucking hell – but I'm far easier and more obvious. Oh. I don't mean easier like… I get laid a lot, more like I just end up with a hard and dangerous problem in my pants. Dangerous because 'it' could most possibly go off at any moment with Mello in the room.

So I didn't intentionally just punch him to make him get his hands off me, but it still happened, and the results were bad. Very bad. So here I am, slammed against a wall so hard I almost feel dizzy, with my feet an inch or so off the ground again, with stairs sloping away from me to my left. Shit. Oh fuck, I could die in so many ways right now.

Yeah, I'm such a motherfucking pessimist, but I couldn't honestly give a flying fuck. I'm a little too busy being pressed bodily against a wall by the incarnation of sex. That's the sort of thing that can cause issues. Especially to me, of course. Fuck again.

His face is right up near mine, and he's glaring in the most beautifully angry way. He really is quite incredible-looking when he's furious. I suppose he's a little like a jungle cat, while I'm an innocent, defenceless little puppy. Although said puppy would've ripped to pieces if it'd hit – maybe bitten, actually – a fucking big cat. That really wouldn't have gone down well. But instead, said cat of death is giving said puppy a death glare that would scare the lights out of Satan. So I guess it's a good thing I'm too conscious of one of his legs accidentally pressed between my legs.

I know it's accidental for a very simple reason. He's angry, and therefore not in the right mood to try and get me going, and he probably didn't think much before slamming me violently against a wall. So yes, I am in fact blushing again, and he's snarling furiously, before his expression slowly fades into amusement as I make a slight squeak and bite my lip. Why? Simple. He jerked his body a little, while I suppose he was yelling at me. I didn't hear him yell, but then again I don't hear a massive amount when he's there, let alone right up against me, which frankly happens far too often. Not that I'd complain so much… But still.

He's smirking again, and once more he's abusing his authority over my sexual organs, by roughly rubbing his leg up against me, making me squirm slightly, blushing deeply, turning my face away to avoid his superior smirk and overly sensual tongue darting out to wet his lips a little as he works. I say works. This seems to be his preferred 'job'. Maybe it's more of a hobby? A little bit of fun for him, making this weird little gamer get off to his image. Only image, strictly a part of my imagination, because I'd never let… That… happen near him. No fucking way. Well, unless you count the whole toilet thing, which I do _not_. Damn.

Oh. I just realised. When I was in 'my' cubicle, I didn't have so much a fantasy of him touching me, as just the feeling of him against me somewhere in my memory, while I was very conscious of my own hand. Weird.

Not that that's a particularly bad thing or anything… I just usually get far too involved in my own thoughts. Maybe it's because I was already pretty close…? I dunno. I really need to stop asking myself questions I can't answer. Majorly. Urgh, I hate being so enthralled by him like this. Maybe that's the wrong word. Eh, my meaning is clear whichever way I phrase it.

I fucking love these feelings, the ones that are here right now, even if it is weird or creepy or whatever. Of him, being all violent just because it seems so fucking _Mello_ and making me in turn feel so fucking…. Horny, I suppose. Damn. That's such a weird thing to say I like to feel. Because honestly, to start with it was more like a chore, which would be good, but leave me tired… I dunno. Maybe I'm just totally screwed in the head. Actually, there's no maybe about it. I am most definitely screwed up.

Yup, I'm completely fucked up, but I couldn't give a shit right now. Oh. Maybe this is bad… I should be struggling, right? Um… I dunno. I suppose… I don't wanna end up having to go jerk off yet again before dancing. Because that'll make me feel like total shit, especially come tomorrow morning. Goddamnit, why does he have to be so fucking fit?

Wait, what? I sound like a motherfucking girl all over again. This is so bloody retarded, and fucked up, and anything else that involves shit being bad and plenty of expletives. Because I fucking love swearing right now. It's the greatest bloody thing since motherfucking sliced bread. Yeah I just said that. Actually, Legend of Zelda could easily kick sliced bread's butt. Because… Well, Link is epic. And looks like Mello.

Ah fuck, Mello with a sword, dashing around Goron mines with Midna laughing in the background, beating up motherfucking Gorons that get in his way. Yup, I think I'm almost drooling, and he can tell, as well, because he's pretty much directly pressed completely against me, leg still doing that grinding thing, with his forehead pressed slightly against the wall, head turned a little so his break can ghost across my neck and cheek, making me shudder. Uh… Yeah… Feels sort of good. Very. Can't think.

Abort! Abort! Abort Goddamnit, Matt, get out of there now! So I'm a total geek, sue me why don't you, I just really need to remove myself – again – and calm the fuck down before something bad happens. Luckily, he seems to understand this. Actually, I expect he just got bored because I was getting used to it and making less weird squeaky sounds every so often, and squirming in discomfort. I say discomfort… It was mostly only that for the sole reason that my fucking pants are getting really tight. Shit.

Of course, I'm gonna assume that a bored Mello is going to get more inventive, so as soon as I'm dropped back to the ground, I quickly dash down the stairs, making my way to the dance room. I have no idea why, but I did, curling up against the wall and purposefully going over any shit I could think off that would be a blatant turn off.

Shocker, it actually fucking worked, at least partially. Meaning there wasn't a scarily arousing rubbing motion every time I shifted my legs even a little bit. Cool. Checking the clock, I realise I've managed to go and blow tons of time down the drain; there's now only ten minutes before the so-called-lesson starts up, which is cool. Hopefully that won't be long enough for Mello to totally fuck me up.

Still, there's definitely apprehension in me when he walks in calmly, drying his hands slowly on a small-ish towel, which he then chucks down beside his drinks bottle. Huh, I didn't even notice that before, or ever come to think of it, but it's here now, because he's taking a drink from it. Fuck, he looks like one of those hot people they shove on the adverts to make you buy stuff, especially as he puts it down and flashes a naughty-looking grin in my direction, setting it down just as kids began to pour in again, and I quickly straightened up, removing my blazer, sweater, and tie, tossing them into an untidy pile as I killed off the second button of my shirt. Don't think I'm trying to do anything for Mello's purposes. I'm wearing a striped black and white vest underneath, thanks. Yeah, vest thing. You know. The sort that the body-builder guys wear to the gym. Light not counted, because he's a skinny little sod. Even I could take him in a fight. Tosser.

Mello and his leather are currently skirting through the crowd slowly, giving everyone instructions for the first time I've ever seem. Yowzers, now there's something you don't see every day. Mello not being a total dickhead. Though I suppose he's in a good mood at the moment due to my reactions to him. I mean seriously, if you were a pedophile, you'd be happy to hear your victim jerking off, right? Maybe that's just me. And Mello, obviously. I'm not gonna take all the shit for this, fuck that.

Oh. So the king himself has come to give my lowly self instructions. Which are, of course, to come up to the front and dance with him. Fucking fuckery… I hate my life. Insert smiley face emote. Meaning sarcasm of the highest order. Yeah. Woot fucking woot. Still, it could be worse, I could be watching someone else dance with him… Why does that spark up jealousy in me, damnit? I don't care, I don't care, I don't care… I'm repeatedly telling myself this, like a fucking mantra or something. Whatever. What is a mantra, anyway? I've heard the word (yay for Light and other douches) but I've never really used it myself, so I'm clueless right now. Huh. How lame. I guess it's something repetitive or song-like, from what gets referred to as being one.

Why am I thinking about mantras when Mello has his hands on my ass? How fucking retarded and fucked in the head am I? Very, we all knew that already, damnit. Urgh, I truly hate myself sometimes. I mean, I get distracted from almost everything without Mello's being there, but as soon as he's here, I just accept everything he does to me and let my mind wander. Fuck it all.

Ok, so yeah, I'm forcing myself to pay attention to his movements as he grinds into – against, against, against damnit! Into sounds so dodgy! – my still form, trying to make me move with his hands sliding across the small of my back, my ass and the top part of my thighs. His hands feel really nice, despite the layer or two of fabric separating me from them. Mmm… Damn, perversion is fun. Har de har, isn't sarcasm just fabulous?

Damn, I don't believe I just fabulous. Now I sound like some gay, American female. I do hate females as of recently. I dunno why I've been talking shit over them all, since I hate to generalise, but I suppose I'm just not amused with the world of feminism since my realisatino of my sexuality. Like I'm blaming girls for not being Mello enough for me. Because damn, I've never seen anyone like him. Obviously. Because he's a unique, beautiful creature. Divine, I suppose some cruddy stereotypes might say. Not me though, I stick to less fucked words to use. I do hate words like divine and fabulous, they just piss me off so much, I swear.

Still, I'm relaxing enough to dance now, but that doesn't help at all, because instead of grinding away at my butt as he's accustomed to, I'm pressed chest to chest to him, like earlier, beside the stairs… Oh, that's why he's doing it. He can't be quite as blatant with spectators, so he figured he'd make me remember what had happened in this sort of position very recently. Damn though, he dances really nicely against me, and I really don't care that I can't keep up so much, because….

Ok, this will most definitely sound totally shit coming from me, but I'm actually going to say something that sounds like it should be in a very perverted romance. Something like that.

I don't really care that I can't keep up so much, because it means he's forced to touch me more, make me keep up, his hands sliding neatly as he controls my movements – and other things, I might add – and make everything look perfect. Yep, that sounded totally awful and perverted. Still, I suppose I should really accept my own fucking thoughts in order to figure out what exactly I feel for him, because some wise shithead once said – I think – that lust and love are easily confused. Something like that. And I'm not one to make mistakes. Damn am I a clinical bastard.

Still, it's almost getting to be sort of fun, dancing with Mello. Up until the point where, in a tiny musical gap between tracks, his hips jolt forwards maybe only an inch, causing me to moan out ridiculously loudly. Fuck. There's a pause, and then everyone laughs, thinking I'm only screwing around, while I go bright red, feeling Mello's fingers dig into my back a little, before sliding down and jamming roughly against my ass, making me practically bite through my lip to restrain another short moan. Well fuck this.

I make a very half-hearted attempt to get the hell away from him, but he holds me in place, his hips shifting a fraction quicker, forcing me to keep myself very carefully in check. I have a feeling he's trying to train me to put up with sexual tension and not start groaning like a horny teenager – which I am – when this sort of shit happens.

Oh. Did I just figure out the point of these lessons? Fucking playing hard to get in clubs? That's the most… Pointless? … lesson ever. Seriously. If you wanted to do that…. Actually, he's done pretty well. I can rest assured that if I ever go to a club, I won't be groaning while people grind against me. Mostly because I'd be scared of Mello's wrath, and partly because I never want to fucking go clubbing now. Yay, I'm gonna be a stay-at-home guy. Oh wait… I'd do that anyway. I fucking love my video games, so going to rave at some shitty club and taking some slag home sounds like complete bullshit in comparison to a long-winded date with my games, which will forever be loyal to me and me alone. Hah, I'm such a freaking nerd sometimes. And I fucking love it, thanks very much, so people can go shove their opinions up their asses. I. Don't. Want. To. Get. Shitfaced. Yeah I said it.

But seriously, now he's just being so fucking goddamn rough that I can hardly even stand it… Ack. Bad. Again, I would very much like to 'abort mission' but sadly this is impossible, because he's holding me far too tightly… Fuck, how is no-one even noticing this?! That's just fucking stupid. How blind are these bastards anyway?

Although, all said, I sort of expected a far worse reaction from him, since slapping him about a teensy bit got me dry-fucked against a wall. Not that I'd like there to be spectators if this was re-enacted. Actually, I'd prefer if it wasn't re-enacted, because that made me feel really fucking awkward. Douche.

Still, the lesson passes in relative calm after that minuscule slip up with fucking big-ass consequences, and before I even fucking know it Mello's finally removed his hands from my ass and is yelling for everyone to leave.

I turn to go and pick up my stuff, but he grabs my arm.

"No, Jeevas, I think you can stay," he growled. He really doesn't speak enough. Well, that's a lie, he speaks plenty, I just either ignore it or don't hear it through arousal. Because apparently I'm gonna go completely deaf if I ever manage to get laid while LoZ, Mario and Sonic exist. Which I highly doubt, unless the game designers get really shitty. They'd damn better not.

But back to my impending death, doom and destruction. Yes.

He's gripping my arm a little too tightly, and by now almost everyone's left. Nope, make that everyone. I am completely alone with a man who's either gonna do me senseless, or beat the living shit out of me. I'd really prefer to just go home at this point. I'm completely knackered, and I really fucking need some Red Bull, which is either going to be bought on my way home, or grabbed from the fridge when I'm actually at home. Damn, am I fiending for an energy drink.

Still, I obediently turned around when he asked me too – I say asked, I mean practically screamed his pretty fucking head off.

"Would you like to explain," he hissed, "what and why exactly that fucking just happened?" His words are so fucking venomous that it takes me a little while to phrase a coherent and normal-ish sounding answer.

"I moaned. Because you fucking shoved your dick at me." Maybe that could've been better phrased, because once again I find my back being made acquaintance with the wall. Huh, I have a feeling they're gonna be best friends soon.

The disappointing thing is, he's not all up against me this time, instead he's holding me at arms length, my shoulders pinned with a force that would probably bruise, if not dislocate my arms and the end parts of my collar bone. Fuck if this uncomfortable. Though I suppose this is punishment or whatever shit.

"Do you realise that your fucking stupid actions there have just gotten you in far more trouble than I intended to put you in?" he snarled angrily, and I swallowed. Trouble? Intended? What? Ok, so lets get this straight. I blame him, and now I'm in more trouble. Well fuck this.

"No, but I do realise that you're a pervert." Not my smartest ever line. Why am I so fucking childish anyway? Fuck.

I think my shoulders both just broke. And if not, they're gonna be so fucking sore tomorrow I'm not even gonna be able to play my fucking video games. Well screw that. I don't wanna lose precious gaming time just because he's being a jerk. Then again, I do have a habit of provoking this. I mean seriously. It's so fucking retarded, I swear. Why do I have to be so good at angering people anyway? Damnit.

"Oh yeah? Then what does that make you, the one who goes and masturbates over it?" he hissed, and I think I may have actually flinched. Well shit. That's not good at all. Ok, so it's true, but I didn't really expect him to put it quite as bluntly.

"What does it make the one who comes and listens?" I eventually retorted, maybe just a little too late to have really won the argument. There's a slight pause, and very suddenly all of the pressure on my body is gone, and I crumple to the floor in surprise, quickly trying to scramble back up so I'm at a slightly more advantageous height, but before I have a chance he's shoving me back down with a boot to my chest, before it slides down to rub against my groin, making me feel horribly uncomfortable.

Ok, so it's not too bad, but I have to bite my lip almost to bleeding point to stop any noise, and squeeze my eyes closed so I can't see the dangerously sexy, hot, dominant smirk on his face. He gets such a kick out of making me feel like I'm about to pass out from this, when the truth is that I'll actually probably just end up with white crap dripping down my legs as I attempt to make my way home without falling over from the shock of it all.

Because my balance is awful when I'm tired, and tired often – read as always, for me at least – comes after physical exertion. And I reckon that both jerking off and dancing fall under that category. Especially when Mello makes himself involved in one of them. One of them being dance. He doesn't physically get involved in my jacking off moments. He's there in spirit, but not in body, which I'm eternally grateful for. Though, I'm not grateful that he took it upon himself to wander his merry way into the very bathroom I was wanking in. Not. Fucking. Helpful. Too bad for me I was too far gone to even consider stopping, despite the fact that I did actually hear someone's presence. Fuck, it could've been anyone and it'd have been just as bad, damnit.

Anyway, back to reality. Boot. Crotch. Tight. Bad. Yeah, that just about covers it really. Still, it could be worse… He could be stamping me into a gazillion little bits, and personally, I like to have my reproductive organs attached to me, thank you very fucking much. So yeah, it definitely could've been worse, and I thank fucking hell that he's not in that bad a mood.

Then again, maybe he isn't killing me violently because then he wouldn't have anyone to play games with. Huh. I guess it's a possibility. Fuck possibilities, he's just being a douche bag about everything at the moment. I mean, I wouldn't have moaned if he didn't spend all of his time being a total slut. Seriously. Though, I value my life a little too much to insult him anymore at this point.

I think there's a possibility that he's now done screaming at me. Probably because he's currently grinding his heel against me at a tantalisingly slow pace. Well fuck. So, this is beginning to actually almost feel painful, to be quite honest, and I'd like more than anything else to get the fuck out of there and get the hell home. Because home isn't somewhere that Mello actually spends time, thus rendering me at least a little bit safer than I am here. Though I can't really do jack shit about the thoughts that keep molesting my brain.

Still, this isn't going so well for me, since I'm practically curled around his foot from the efforts of both staying muted and not ruining a perfectly fine pair of pants. And an unsuspecting pair of Tetris underwear. Damn. Damnit! Why does he have to do this?!

He's refusing to give up, despite the fact I must be drawing blood from his leg with the strength I'm digging my nails into with. Actually, I doubt that. He's wearing leather. And my fuck does it look good on him… Ng.. Not helping, not at all. Of course, my position puts me a little closer to certain parts of him that I'd really rather avoid right now. And in the foreseeable future, too. Because it's gonna completely squish itself into my subconscious, and I know exactly what'll happen then. Bad shit. Well, not bad in quite a few ways, but bad for the safety and clean-ness of my bed. Fuck. It. All.

I'm squirming pretty badly right now, and he's almost crapping himself laughing at me. Only, he's more adult than that, so he's less laughing manically and more smirking, with the odd sarcastic chuckle thrown in. I think I might actually be actually trying to get off to his bloody fucking boot right now. Shit. I mean… Squirming, my hips are misbehaving without my permission… Fuck, is he finding this funny. But I can't fucking move, because then I'll essentially backward-stamp myself. Meaning, instead of him actually having to stamp on me, I'll skewer myself. Shit. With a capital 's', 'h', 'i' and 't'. Crap.

Now here's a thought I didn't come across before. Shove him off. Duh. This is how fucking out of my mind I am right now. I'm about to mess my pants from everything, and I didn't even think that it might be smart to _push him off_.

So I do just that. With all of my motherfucking strength as well. And does he even budge?

Suprisingly, yes. I guess he really wasn't expecting me to violently push him over backwards, and for once he falls unceremoniously to the ground. And now he knows what it feels like to be me.

Not really wanting to get caught, I quickly sprint out of the godforsaken room, dashing out of the front door to the less bright streets. Damn, so it's already getting late? At least a little bit? Hmm. I hope Light freaks out. I love it when he gets all worked up, because it's just that much easier to piss him off so he goes into a ranting fit. And then, obviously, I'm free to leave him to his screaming and hide out in the bathroom until it's safe to come out.

I usually chose the bathroom, because when I'm late, it's because I just got 'Mello-ed'. And that means I need to stay in a bathroom and sort myself out. Duh. Eh, I fail so much sometimes, it's unbe-fucking-lievable.

I sprint the whole freaking way home, and ignore Light as he tried to whinge about how late I am, slamming myself into the first locked room I find and sliding down the door slowly, almost murdering my trousers in my haste to remove them and fix myself up, at least a little bit. Well fuck, twice in one day. Note to self; do not, under any circumstances, go to dance lessons over three hours early. Ever. It's not fucking smart. Especially not when you happen to be Mello's play-thing. Urgh, fuck, his face is dancing around in my mind, switching from his furious glare, to his overly sexy death smirk, on a repetitive loop.

I'm jerked out of my daydreams and back into silence when I realise that Light didn't stay put.

"Matt? What the fuck are you fucking doing?"

Oh shit.

* * *

**Yay for my lame attempt at a cliffy! Heh... So, I'm not sure what's gonna happen next chapter, which means do feel free to... REVIEW!!! :D Yeah, review, say what you liked, what could be improved, how to improve, what you'd like to see happen, etc etc! It'll make me feel so warm, fuzzy and happy! Big hugs to everyone that's reviewed, also! And again, please check my profile for my cosplay links, because I really would love people to do that :D**

_Matt: Why exactly are you doing this to me? *lights cigarete*  
__Dia: Uhh.. Because it's really damn fun?  
Matt: Not a good enough answer.  
Dia: Ok. Because you're gonna get laid at some point?  
Matt: ... *smokes* Eh... Fair enough.  
Dia: That's bad for you. *snatches cigarette*  
Matt: I don't care! Gimme!! _


	5. In My Head

**Ok, to say before I begin really, I cut this short because I wanted to give you guys an upload before Monday, because school really kills me at the moment, especially with Options. Sure, I've already completed the sheet and given it in, but whatever, I really need to update at the weekend, so I couldn't put everything in, so there isn't actually any proper Mello in here, for which I'm sorry, but the next chapter will make up for it, I promise! **

**A super massive thanks to... Two of my reviewers. Yay! Big glomps to the two non-anon people [The Original Gamer and ShinigamiMailJeevas] and would like to kindly ask people to go and check them out, because they're damn epic, and one or two ideas for this chapter and the next have come from Shinigami :D Yay!! **

**Oh, I'd like a little rant, because I'm a teensy bit upset about something. A review :O Someone reviewed and just asked when they were gonna have sex. Well here's the thing, I know when they're gonna go do that [roughly] but this does actually have a plot, and if you don't wanna read plot, then find some oneshots. I have nothing against oneshots, but I'm putting a lot into this, so yeah... Heh. Rant over? Sure (:**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Matt's right hand. He needs that xD**

**Warnings - Um.. Matt goes shopping? Ish xD not really so much, but yeah :P Fun stuff :D And the usual Matt-jacking-off fun :D**

_

* * *

_

_Oh shit. _

Think Matt, think! You can get out of this. He wants to know what you're doing. Smart-ass reply needed NOW. Say anything!

"What does it bloody sound like I'm doing, genius?" That's good. Sarcastic tone, obviously mocking him… Yup, that sounds perfectly like me. That's always good. Nothing suspicious. Of course. I'm the maestro of calm, remember? Yeah, me neither. Damn, it feels like an age since I last felt properly at peace with myself… That sucks so badly. I hate being completely out of character in my own life.

To quote a song I love; "Dressed up as myself, to live in the shadows of who I'm supposed to be."

Maybe that doesn't really fit at all. Still, it's a good few lines. I love them, personally, and I like to think I understand what's meant by that. In fact, I don't 'think' I understand, I know I do. Hmm, I reckon I've left Lighty-boy momentarily speechless, since he's yet to come back with a dramatically fail response. Heh. Damn he sucks recently. And by recently, I mean within the last few minutes, obviously.

"Not something I'd like to hear about, so keep it down, would you? I've got guests," he replied smoothly – eventually – and I have a sneaky feeling that the space of time that was left wasn't filled with a melodramatic eye roll and sigh, but more with thought about what he could actually say without sounding too much of a douche bag. Too bad he's a massive douche anyway. Hah. Douche. That's a funny word… I dunno why I just noticed that.

"Oh? More of your little fuck-buddies come to suck you off?" I usually ask this, and I know it always makes him want to beat the shit out of me, which makes it funnier still. Especially as he won't dare at this point. Instead, I hear the prize bastard stomping downstairs in his usual drama-queen-like way, making me smirk evilly, before turning back to the problem at hand. Literally. Damn I hate puns.

I finish up quickly, since if he does in fact have 'guests', I don't really want to be a part of some massive 'inside' joke between them all. Damnit, I hate Light sometimes. I really prefer it when he goes out to other peoples places, because then I get the house to myself, which is awesome. He hasn't been doing that recently though… Sucks. I want him to get lost, really. He spends all of his time annoying me, and then I'm annoyed and I've got Mello on the brain at the same time and hot damn is that not good. Trust me.

Still, it's ok now. Because I'm used to it, and it's kind of shocking how long I can go now without realising just how fucking hard I am. Which isn't good, because then someone like Near tries to point it out and I flip my lid. Fuck, did that really only happen today? Feels like forever. I blame that sexy bastard that I have to dance with. Yeah.

Because it's obviously all his fault, damnit! I mean, if it weren't for him, there really wouldn't be a problem. Or maybe it's Light's fault… Eh, either way, I don't care. They're just annoying sometimes. Well. Mello isn't. Light is. Point made, I hope… I think… Maybe. Argh, whatever. I don't care.

I think I'm gonna go to bed. I mean sure, it's not even that late really, but I'm tired as fuck for once, and I don't think even my beautiful Red Bull could fix me up for a night time of gaming today. Dunno why. Just seems like… One of those moments. But yeah.

I wander my merry way up to my room, and flop down on the bed, not even bothering to change out of my school clothes. Wait, did I even pick up my jumper and shit? Huh. I don't really care that much. Don't care at all… Not at all… Hmm… Beds are more comfortable than I ever noticed…

***

I suppose its morning, since it's… sunny. Yeah. Damn, I forgot to close the fucking curtains, it's gotta be dawn or something. Well shit. I hate early mornings… Though I may as well get some valuable gaming done. Ocarina of Time, I think… Yeah. Definitely. Give some of those Redead bastards a good fucking kick up the ass. Seriously, those fucking wankers of enemies go around HUMPING Link in order to attack him. How fucking retarded is that?! Link is not for humping, seriously. That's just wrong. I hate stupid characters. I'm obviously growling to myself.

Great. I'm insane. I'm lying on a bed, with all my school uniform on, growling manically. Fucking hell. That's more than a little bit stupid, to be honest. So, I get up. Voila, problem fixed, right? Wrong.

I went and accidentally fell asleep in Light's bed… Wait, if he had guests… Ew, I really hope not. I think I just shuddered. Definitely, actually. Damn, if that did happen, I'm gonna fucking skin him alive and choke him to death. Not that I'm overly violent. You know what? I'm gonna go. And I'm gonna play one of my Legend of Zelda games. And I'm gonna forget about Light. And I'm gonna focus on Mel-… Link. Shit. Bad mistake there… Helloooo morning hard on. Ferk. Fuck. However you want to say or spell it, I don't care. That word, though. Yeah.

Still, doing my best to ignore it – I got good at that, remember? Yeah, maybe that was a lie… - I make my way to hook my Game Cube up to the flat screen, since I want to see stuff in big. Yeah, I'm not so good with words during early mornings. Still, it could be worse. I could be… I dunno, Light? Yeah. That works.

After a lot of fiddling with a gazillion wires, I finally get the system up and running, quickly searching through about fifty game cases – most of which I haven't opened in quite a while, damn am I useless – and finding the one I want, flipping it open and sticking the disk in place, before settling back to let the opening credits play through and get beating stuff up.

Oh. I forgot I'd beaten this game… Huh. Well ok then, I'll start a new save file… Name? Uh… No. That's not obsessive, right…? Yeah. I named myself Mello. So shoot me.

Still, it's a good game and I get sucked in so easily, even though I've solved all the puzzles at least twice before. I do love a good gamegasm. Yeah that's a word. And yeah, that was a lie. Bite me. And by sucked in, I mean I played until my thumbs ached and Light screamed at me to 'fucking eat, you anorexic bastard'.

I am not fucking anorexic. Seriously, I eat tons, just in odd little bursts. So I binge on pizza and nachos, what's your point? My diet is very balanced. Cookies, red bull (that's for energy) pizza (met and vegetables, that's good, right? And dairy too) and chips or crisps, which is for carbs and shit. Perfectly damn balanced, and I'm not fat either, so shove that.

I do as I'm told though, despite the fact that the only stuff I can find to eat is all 'healthy'. Meaning, carrots. Oh, I could make carrot sticks. Urgh, fuck that. I'll make something traditional to that place Light came from/ Japan. Yeah. I'll make something Japanese. Ok. Miso soup. I know how to make that, so no problem at all. Hot water, stock cube, carrots and potatoes, and then add the paste shit. And done. And now I get to eat it and hope to hell that I'm not poisoning myself.

Actually, it doesn't taste too bad, which is cool. I half expected to keel over the moment I put it in my mouth, because that's how much faith I have in anything that isn't' junky. Eh, could be worse I suppose. Though, it actually tastes quite good… Interesting.

Going back to my wonderful world of games, I manage to waste away the rest of the day, with a few more breaks to eat, drink, and deal with other bodily issues. How wonderful, ha ha not. My sarcasm muscles aren't very well today, which is sort of annoying. I guess I wasted all of it on my quick thinking of a response to Light last night. I bet Mello would've known what to say straight off the bat, and would've delivered it so much better, too… Damn. I can just see his face, the way it would twist into a smirk as he snapped out the words crisply, in much the same way he'd punch someone in the face, probably, his hips tilted nicely to emphasise his words, plus a lazy hand gesture which clearly says 'fuck off, this conversation is over'.

Mm, damn would he look so _hot_ and so _perfect_… Ah, shit, there goes my calm. I managed so well to distract myself from him all day, even if it wasn't entirely intentional. And once again, one problem in my pants that I can either fix or leave to fix itself overnight and murder out my bed, yet again..

Speaking of which, I just realised that didn't happen while I was in Light's room. Must be a curse… Though there's no way I'm leaving my room. Hello, how fucking hot is he in my dreams?! It'd be fucking mental to leave that behind. Yup, my logic is dangerously flawed, but who cares? He's perfect as hell, and anyone in my place would feel the same fucking way. And fuck me if I let anyone else in my place.

I sort of need to stop using phrases like 'fuck me', because I really sort of… Don't want to be… Having that…. Done…. Or whatever. Yeah. I'm not a fan of that right now, I'm good just getting used to hormones as they are right now, even if that does mean having my head fucked with as often as humanly possible. I'm glad it's the weekend actually, because it means Near isn't asking me and reminding me every ten minutes. I hate that.

Seriously, he's maybe the least tactful person in the history of ever. Not counting Mello, because… Well, does he even bother trying to be subtle? Fuck no. Do I care? Uh… Maybe I'll leave that one. Ok, so I don't care at all. To be completely honest… Yeah, I'm starting to get used to it by now, and I might – _might_ – like it. So I said it.

Sighing to myself, I flick off my console, and head upstairs, careful to turn the right way and go into my own room. The walls are dangerously plastered with posters, so much that it's actually impossibly to see what the wall colour's supposed to be. Still, it's better that way. Makes it more personal to me. My space. No-one else's, and that's how I like it.

I flop down on the bed, half-asleep before I suddenly realised I should clean my teeth. Otherwise my bad breath's gonna kill me in the morning. Because… Well, it's lethal, to be totally honest. I could murder with my morning breath, I really could.

And so, I quickly move to do this, ending up with a mouthful of foamy, minty shit which I spit out quickly, rinsing it out of the sink and stomping back to my room, deciding to switch to something more comfortable to sleep in. Meaning, I strip down to my boxers and collapse into bed, tugging the duvet around me, forming a massive nest somewhere near the middle, the top and bottom spaces completely devoid of anything other than white sheets that I'm unable to tug into my small, sleepy domain.

It's comfortable, and feel almost like another body curled around me, hugging me tightly, lightly touching my face when I breath in, fluttering a little while I exhale, before the fingertips drop back to my cheek, the other being still wrapped carefully around me, fitting perfectly against my back, my entire frame warmed through from the presence.

By now I'm far gone, fast asleep and dreaming, but it doesn't matter, because all I can feel is the heat bound around me by my own arms, and my mind immediately begins to twist and convulse, editing in a real body, a real hand touching my face gently, tilting it lightly and pressing feather-light kisses down on my mouth, other hand lightly gliding down my side, sending happy shivers down my spine. It feels good, and everything's so clear, if it weren't for the dreamy haze, I would've assumed it was real.

I don't even know if my eyes are open or not, but the not-really-existent body cradles me, and I realise I don't care either way, since I can easily see the blond hair and flashing blue eyes either way. Two separate parts of my brain supplying each image to my imagination, repeating, changing, and all touches too light to be real.

I don't care. It doesn't really matter to me. I'm so used to this… It's almost scary, how unconcerned I am about these dreams now, when I used to wake up in a cold sweat, panicking. Maybe that's an exaggeration. I don't care, again. I have better things to worry about.

So, it's just a dream, but it says something about my mind that I can fabricate touches in my head, doesn't it? Yeah. It says I'm bloody fucked in the head. Majorly.

***

I jerk upright when I wake up – before fucking daybreak, I might add. Well. I would've been upright, but my fucking bastard duvet wrapped itself too tightly in my sleep, and I end up toppling violently to the ground, thumping loudly. A long struggled followed, before I could finally escape, to a bright light being flicked on, and an untidy Light in my doorway. If I wasn't so busy shielding my eyes and rubbing my leg where it had hit the ground, I would've taken a picture of the so-called always-immaculate Light so messed up and unlike his usual, groomed self.

He's glaring dangerously, and I quickly jump to my feet, clutching at the material in my slight shock at the look on his face, and also to hide a slight issue. I say slight. It's fucking sticky and going to get fucking everywhere.

"Mail fucking Jeevas, what the fuck are you fucking doing at this fucking hour in the fucking morning?"

His swearing is scarily limited for a 'genius', as he claims he is. Which he isn't. I'm smarter than him by far, even with the years between us. I say years. There's only about three. Still, it should make him at least a tiny bit more intelligent.

"I fell out of bed." It seemed like the easiest and most simple explanation. I didn't much feel like telling him I just had the best motherfucking wet dream of my life. That isn't something you tell someone like him. Ever. Especially not since I hate his fucking guts and want him to die. Hopefully painfully. Heh.

He glared for a little longer, before flicking off the light and leaving, and I can hear his footsteps shaking the whole building. Damn is he in a bad mood. I'm definitely gonna have to get the fucking hell out of here in the morning. Maybe I'll catch the bus into the town centre and go do something. I dunno. Shopping. I'll nick Lighty-boy's wallet or something fun like that. Yeah, that's what I'll do. Fucking genius, that's me. He always leaves it in the same place anyway. Idiot.

Instead of trying to get back to sleep, I start to clean up my bed a little, switching my screwed up blanket-type things for new ones, stuffing the not-so-clean ones into the laundry box thing I'm always meant to put dirty crap in to get it washed. Not that Light does so much washing. Can anyone really see him actually doing some helpful..?

I sure as fuck can't, because the day he helps me is the day Hell freezes over and Satan sells ice pops for a living. You see my point? He's such a douche bag (Light, not Satan, though I'm sure he's right up there too), I swear. He won't fucking cook for me, wash anything, not even buy me anything. And he barely leaves any of the weekly food cash for me either, because he has to buy so many fucking hair products. I need a fucking job, otherwise I'm gonna fucking die. And dying is particularly high on my To Do list.

No, I did not just fucking add 'Mello is' to the end of that motherfucking sentence. No. Fucking. Bloody. Shitty. Way. Ok, so fine, I did, but seriously, it was completely unintentional, as thoughts go. Like my fucked p day dreams. That's all my subconscious fucking around with me, damnit.

I'm going to possibly kill Light one day. Merely because he pisses me off. He could've just gone back to fucking sleep, but no, the bastard had to come and swear his little, pussy-ass head off at me.

My insults aren't so brilliant in the mornings. Especially not at some godforsaken hour as this is. It's early for me, anyway. Don't wake me before midday on the weekends, damnit. Of course, this was my fault. And sure, I don't actually get up at midday, because that's a waste of time that could be spent gaming.

I'm not gonna get to do that so much today, I can sense it. Partially because I need to get the hell out of the house before Light starts fucking about at 3pm so as not to wake me up. Bastard. That wasn't even funny, I almost vomited. Those bitches are fucking LOUD. I swear. I just wanted to go and shoot the living shit out of them. Too bad Light's too straight-edge to own a gun. Ok, so I guess it's illegal anyway, but come on.

Thing is, they aren't even doing anything worthy of being loud. They fucking play Scrabble. No I'm not fucking joking. Seriously, that's all they fucking go and do, and it's fucking irritating as fucking hell. And I need to use some different expletives. Um.. Bloody pisses me off so badly, I wanna go and kill the motherfucking retards. That'll do. For now, anyway.

Well, with my thought processes of general hatred and not-Mello (for once, and I'm so bloody shocked… Can't say I'm too happy over it either..) I've managed to magically waste enough time for it to reasonable for me to leave the house. Meaning, it's six am. Oh yay.

Maybe I should eat to waste time? I'll take a shower too, come to think of it. Yeah. That's what I'll do. Awesome.

It's actually impossible to work out what to eat in this fucking house. French toast. Yeah. I feel like making myself some crappy French bloody toast. Great. I think I'm gonna shower first. I smell like sex. Possibly. I don't even know what that smells like, to be honest. Probably something like jizz. Yeah. That's make sense… Sweat too. Why am I think this over?

Mello, obviously. I bet he smells something like sex. If that does in fact smell of chocolate and leather. I rather like that combination at the moment, which probably isn't safe for me. If by safe you mean not getting white shit everywhere. In which case, I'm not safe at all. Especially not when I'm asleep or in the same room as him.

Still, I had a feeling that I wasn't thinking about Mello enough, and I realised this was in fact true once I was actually standing under the running water. Mello. Suddenly, all my thoughts gravitated straight to him. Well fuck. Almost lazily, I lean back against the wet, tiled walls, letting my eyes close and my hand slide down my body slowly.

Details? Same as fucking ever, absolutely fucking brilliant, with his face taking over my whole mind, his dirty smirk, far too close to me while everything just pans out.

His hand? Or mine? To be frank, I can't even tell even more, and I wouldn't know if it wasn't obvious that there was no-one else in here but me. It all sort of blends together at times like this. I dunno why I'm getting so much into this. I mean, it's no different really. Because I'm seeing him later on? Damn, that makes it sound like a motherfucking date. It isn't. I just have to go and 'learn' how to 'dance'. Hmm.

He does move wonderfully. I know I've said it millions of times and shit, but seriously, he's so nice. And I can't fucking believe I just referred to fucking sexy-ass dancing as 'nice'. Seriously, what am I, five or something?! Gah.

Mmm… I'm glad this water is running, because otherwise… Well, yeah. Uh… Anyway. Hmm. I think I'm done here. Yeah, I should eat and get the hell out of here before I go freaking insane.

Still… I keep getting more and more excited every fucking time, I swear I do. It's weird. He's stuck in my head, dangerously so. Maybe it's unhealthy, but… Eh, maybe not. At least my hands are getting more exercise, so I'll be able to kick ass in Soul Caliber even better. Talk about button mashing.

How the fuck do I go from Mello and masturbation to fucking button mashing on epic games? I'm officially fucked in the head, especially with all the thought processes that fuck up there.

I'm not sure if I just meant that my thought processes were fucking, or that they get fucked up there… Y'know what? I don't care. Why? Because it doesn't matter. Another why? Well, Mello's in my thoughts, so it makes sense, right? Maybe that's just me and all my fucked up glory. Speaking of which, I should dry myself and get to making food before Light gets up for the second time this morning. Otherwise I'm gonna die, because he's gonna be a moody little bastard.

Towels feel bad this morning. Dunno why. Might be because… Light can't even put things in a fucking washing machine right? Well duh, it's his fault. He's meant to be the grownup one, but he's too busy with his motherfucking bitched up 'God complex' to do anything that a normal mortal would do. Jackass.

Still, it could be worse. I could be homeless… Actually, I think I'd rather be homeless than have to live with bloody fucking Lighty-kins. Actually, that's a lie. I need the flat screen, and the consoles, and electricity. And clothes. Bloody hell would it be awkward to dance with Mello without clothes…

Well that's a bad thought. And hello there, Hard On, I feel we're becoming far to well acquainted. Definitely too well acquainted. Could be worse though, since it means I get Mello on the brain… Though rather naked dancing I could really do without. Hm.. Actually, maybe not. I'll just put off my breakfast, maybe….. No. Fucking hell, I'm getting so bloody distracted. No jacking off right now, I have to go and eat, and then I have to leave. Right. Yeah. I can do this shit.

It takes a suprising amount of effort to drag my ass out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, wondering when exactly my brain fell into the gutter. Probably Mello's fault. Yeah, almost definitely. I mean, sure, I wasn't the 'cleanest' teenager to begin with, for want of a better word, but he definitely didn't help. I mean, there's a difference between the odd, homosexual and perverted comment and getting someone else's crotch ground into your ass until you it feels like you're going to be able to feel it permanently.

Uhh, bad though, yet again. I swear, I'm going to murder myself with self inflicted arousal. Well, I say self inflicted, really it isn't all me… Just my brain and my reproductive organs working in harmony. Not all that fun, but it really could be worse, I suppose. I keep saying that. Not good, or not nice, but it could be better, y'know. Damn am I bullshitting.

I need to stop fucking repeating myself. Even if it just… well, to me. I don't like to repeat, but I do it anyway. Fucking irritating, that's what it is. Urgh.

It seems to take me hours to actually make and consume my food, but it doesn't bother me too much. I was about to think that 'it could be worse' and almost screamed. I swear, that's starting to piss me off now. Ok. No more could be worse. Only shit for me, ignore the rest of the world. Speaking of the world, I have places to not be. Mostly this house, which I need to get out of soon, since I can hear Light start the long process of waking up. First he has to reach for a nonexistent alarm clock, almost tumble out of bed, right himself, sit up, stretch, fall back again to lie down again, stretch some more, lie still for another five minutes and that get up properly. Boring as hell right?

Grabbing my vest-jacket (fur lined and with random strips of it on the front and back as well, warm as hell let me tell you) and my wallet, I waltz out of the house and I'm down the road and at the bus stop before Light can yell at me to make him tea. Fucking tea. He's Japanese, I'm the fucking Brit, thanks. Douche bag. I always put tons of sugar in just to piss him off anyway. He hates anything sweeter than a fucking apple, no joke. And he only puts up with those because it's 'natural' sugar. Bullshit. If he were any more worried about his figure, he'd be a fucking female. Dickhead.

I swear, buses never come. Ever. It takes one about an hour (ok, so I exaggerate, whatever) to come, and I can automatically tell that the driver's gonna be a total bastard. He's just one of those people that literally emits evil without doing anything. A bit like Mello, but Mello does it well. And sexily too. In tight leather, most of the time… Mmm… Nope, not a good time to feel my pants tighten further. Urgh, fuck it. I sit down as close to the back as I can.

That does mean, however, that I have to put up with the bitchy girls sitting in a fucking massive group just behind me, giggling and yelling about their lives loudly.

Sadly, I had just become a part of this wonderful little gossip session.

"Ohmidayz, what is he like, wearing?! His jacket is like, so weird!"

"Awh, but it's like totally furry! I wanna hug it!"

"Yeah, he's kinda hawt too, dontcha think right?"

"Ohmigawsh though, his hair's a funny colour, does he dye it? It's so bright.."

For the second time today, I really, really, _really_ want to commit a murder. Damn am I in a bad mood today. I'm going to go right ahead and blame my crotch. I'm allowed to blame hormones, right? Fucking right I can, damnit. Urgh, they're pissing me off so badly. I'd love to comeback at them and make them feel idiotic, but generally, when confused, girls talk more than should be humanly possibly to make up for this.

I think that's true, anyway. Probably. Especially with airheads like these. Damnit, I'm just gonna ignore them and think of something nicer. Like Mello's ass. Yeah. Actually, that's worryingly distracting to me. It always looks good, you know… yeah… Mmm. I kind of wish I knew if it felt good too. Because fucking hell, then I'd be… Touching his butt. Wow am I good at stating the obvious. Still, it is a particularly pretty ass, as they go. Then again, I generally don't pay very much attention to that particular part of people's anatomy. Like I'm sure I've said, I'm usually not one to get sexually attracted. Damn do I sound like Near. What I mean is I don't usually crush on random bastards. And Mello fits into that category, but somehow still stole most of my thoughts.

Still, he seems to just generally demand attention, so it's all good, I guess… Heh.

Mm, but he is hot. He seems interesting as well, I'd quite like to know him better, rather than just jerking off over his face. That sounded off. Eh, whatever. He doesn't talk enough. He has the most incredibly sexy voice ever. Seriously. Shit, I'm starting to sound far to fucking girly, like the bitches behind me, who are all still puzzling over my hair. Seriously, why can't they think about something else?! Something that isn't me, preferably. Urgh. Do not want.

Luckily for me, it's a relatively short journey, so I can get the fuck off the bus as soon as it stops, and hurry in the direction of the high street.

Now what to do…? Cinema maybe? Nah, there's never any decent films on anyway. I dunno why, but everything sucks. I hate 3D movies too, because they're meant to make it feel more real, but it really doesn't work on me. Give me average old normal movies any day. Yeah I'm an old school techno dork. Bite me.

Ok. I don't wanna go to the cinema… Right. Oh, I know. I'll go to a pub and see if I can guy a vodka or something. That'd be some funny ass shit. Especially if I managed it. Maybe I should get totally pissed before the dance shit? Now that'd be funny, and so worth the hangover to see Mello's expression if I turned up completely shit-faced.

Alrighty then, pub. Now where do those live…? Oh, of course, I know where one is, duh. Heh.

It doesn't take me too long to get there, since it was only at the other end of the street, and I push the door open as dramatically as I can, though it has little effect. No-one really notices at all. Great. That was a 'special' entrance wasted on nothing.

I make my way up to the bar quickly, smirking in as adult a way as I can manage, snapping my fingers sharply to catch the guy's attention, and it works. I feel suprisingly like Mello, what with my attempted badass attitude. Though he's far hotter than I am, in my opinion at any rate. I dunno how it might seem to anyone else, and I suppose it really depends on what someone's 'type' might be. And he's apparently the height of sex in my eyes.

The barman makes his way over, raising an eyebrow.

"Vodka, if you will," I said, accompanied with a cheeky smirk. A smirk that dropped quickly as he started laughing, and that rapidly turned into a scowl as he pointed to the door.

"You got ID kid, 'cause I doubt it. Get out, would ya, I've got real customers ya know." Fuming – naturally – I leave, though I do my best to mask my irritation until I'm outside, where I glare violently at the door for a short while, and then sigh. "Bastard."

With that, I head back down the street, glancing about myself with an air of boredom. My entire plan of getting pissed it completely blown into smithereens now. How bloody annoying. However, I get a new idea when I pass one of those cheapo stores. One that had a freaking massive sign on the window advertising '3 for 2' Cola. Hmm. Ok. Cheaper coke, could be worse, I suppose. Oh shit, I can get cheap Red Bull here! Fuck yes!!

Alright. I'll get three Cola's and three Red Bulls, just for the hell of it. Yeah, I'll be fucking hyper for it. Not quite the same effect, but it's still fun, right? Right. Yeah. I'll still be completely off my head. I've built up an immunity to Red Bull 'on the rocks' as it might be called, I suppose, so I don't get much of a kick from the caffeine in that, but a combination should be interesting. Caffeine, sugar, and then some more of both. Hmm, I'll get marshmallows as well, just because I know they're practically one hundred per cent sugar, and the name almost contains Mello.

Not obsessive at all, obviously. I mean, it's not like I called my rival in Pokémon Platinum Mello, and I definitely didn't start a new game just to do that. That'd just be plain creepy. Heh. Yeah… Anyway. Damnit I'm a fucking freak, and all because of some guy. I'm officially a feminine retard. Fuck.

Alright, so I have my supplies finally; the girl on the cash desk looked like she was about to kill, I swear. Anyone would think she just went and spent the whole fucking night labelling Cola cans to tell me that they were even cheaper. I really don't envy her, even if I do want the money. Looks like the poor girl was up all night too. Hmm. Yup, I'm glad I'm not her. I know, I know, I'm not a very fucking empathetic person. Well, whatever. I'll empathise when I bloody well want to. And right now, I want to… What do I want to do?

Perhaps I'll go shopping or something. Like a fucking girl. Urgh. Well, I need some new stripes. Maybe a hoodie too. Sure, it's spring, but seriously, come winter or autumn and they won't be fucking anywhere to be seen. I hate fucking retail sometimes. I mean, it can be barely the summer holidays and they'll be shoving Halloween shit onto the shelves. Holidays are horribly commercialised, I swear.

Anyway. I really need something to do before my lesson, so shopping it is. I'll get stripes and shit, like I said. Yeah. I'll do that. Right, clothes shops, I know where they are. Heh.

Unfortunately for me, they're right on the other side of… Well, um… Basically, there's on high street, where there's just general shit, and then a couple of blocks away there's a massive shopping centre place. One of those big, covered over places with two stories and all. Yeah. Them. It's something like a thirty minute walk though, and it's impossible to get a bus or anything because of the absolutely shitty traffic.

I'm not joking, it's like there's a permanent traffic jam. Cut-out cars or something stupid like that. I dunno. But it's always there. I should find out if they're always the same cars, because then I'd die of laughter at the poor sods stuck in a permanent jam, with no escape…

Oh, some old guy gave me a funny look because I randomly burst out laughing there. Well fuck him. Old people really annoy me when they act like 'kids' like me are completely out of our minds and nutty, when they're about half an inch from being senile, drooling morons in old person homes. Hah. Dumbasses.

I stick my iPod earphones in, blasting music into my skull to help the time pass faster. It actually worked, too. It only took a few songs – seemed a lot less, trust me – before I reached the fucking massive shopping complex, sauntering through the automatic doors and shoving said MP3 player back into my pocket. Bastards don't need to see something they can nick while I'm in here. I almost forgot I still had a bloody heavy shopping bag in my hand. Dunno how, but I did. Huh. Weird.

Alright. Stripes. Yeah, now where can I actually find them? Honestly, barely any shops ever actually sell decent stripes. It's practically impossible to buy any that are all the same, because it's 'fashionable' to have them all different from stripe to stripe. Well fuck that, really.

I've just set myself up for too much work, hum de dum. Great.

* * *

**Ok, this hasn't been checked over by my wonderful Mello, so it probably fails D: But yeah, hopefully it's not too awful and stuff :D Out of curiosity, how many people would like to see a Mello/Matt kissing moment? Because I'm thinking of putting one in, but I'm not sure how to fit it in with Mello's character? Might work. We shall see, shall we not? Well, if a couple of people want me to put that in the next chapter, then sure, I'll do it :D Do remember that if you do give me ideas, there's a good possibility that I will actually put them in, so fun stuff, right?**

**So yeah.. reviews maybe? I wuffles them :D Glomps to everyone :D**


	6. Watching You

**Yay, guess what! A new chapter! This was almost all written today, because over the rest of the week I was trying to make Matty shop, and he wouldn't. Damnit, I do hate it when fictional characters get tempermental with me ¬¬ Anyway, I think I may be putting in my epic plot twist next chapter, unless I don't :D Fun, right?! Yeah... Anyway, yeah... New chapter and all that, and um.. Happy Mothers Day? Yeah, that one :D :3**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Death Note, but I am now a proud owner of the 13th DN book! The How To read one! :D And no, I don't have any of the other books. Whatever xD**

**Warnings - Matt's potty tongue, Mello's pervy tongue, and this story being this story :D**

* * *

I was so fucking right. Striped shirts are fucking non-existent in this shit-hole excuse for a shopping centre. Fucking. Hate. Shopping. With a fucking passion, as well. I would happily murder the jackasses that decided that'd be a good idea. I'm gonna go fucking eat my weight in sugar now.

Yeah, I guess I have to if I'm gonna go fight back against Mello or whatever shit. Damn is that gonna be hard for me. Shy, bastard little me. Eh, I have to though... I mean, I want to throw him off... I dunno. Whatever. Either way, I wanna go batshit mental and have an excuse to be hyper for once. Usually I'm too busy doing my best to outsmart Near – close to impossible, trust me – to have time to actually be able to be insane.

It's gonna be fun.

Eh, it's not even so much the hyperactivity I want, it's more just that I want to have an excuse to act in a way that's dangerously unlike myself and throw him off guard. I wish he'd get out of my head; my pants are getting dangerously uncomfortable (like they weren't before, damnit) and I'm starting to itch towards the fucking studio. Seriously. If I don't think, I find myself beginning to wander out of here and towards the place that will ultimately be my destruction.

Maybe I feel magnetised towards Mello... Fuck would that be weird! Damn... I sort of hope not, because that'd be... Weird. Definitely weird. Still, it's not so much as it's a bad thing as it's fucking creepy to think that he could have that much of an effect on me. I mean, previously, I wasn't attached to anyone, I didn't care about jackshit, and I sure as hell didn't feel like I actually wanted to be anywhere, other than in front of my bloody computer, DS or TV, playing games and enjoying my young life as fully as a dork can.

***

About four hours later, I found myself sitting – bored out of my head, I might add – outside the dance studio, empty packets of chocolate, candy, and probably about five Pick'n'Mix cups surrounding me. I really hope no-one I know happens to wander past, because that would be so fucking shitty. I look like a sugar crazed hobo... Bleh.

Still... I dunno. I guess it doesn't matter so much, because... Damn, I feel so warm and fuzzy... Sugar does that to me. I don't realise I'm any different (other than my weird happiness, but fuck has it been forever since I last felt like that! Heh, unless you count... No, forget it, actually...) until I stand up and try to interact with people. Then everything goes horribly wrong, believe me.

Good thing is, I can shuffle my iPod here, and listen to all sort of random, fucked up shit. I do love my music playlists... When I get bored I make myself new ones and think up lousy names for them, just because I can, really. Still, I almost actually managed to forget the fact I've had a fucking hard issue in my pants all fucking day – hey, it's suprising how many people look like Mello in my peripheral vision – until a rather nice few songs come on, cheerfully reminding me. Bloody fucking hell.

I do hate irony sometimes. Though it's sometimes funny... Eh, I'm not even sure if that is irony. Too unbothered and... stuff. Yeah. Heh. Huh, I suppose I should get to finishing off my Red Bull and Cola, and then wander my unsteady way into the dance place and see if I can find Mello... Shouldn't be too hard, since he spends his whole life in the same place, as far as I can tell.

Ow. Fuck, I just tried to chug Cola, completely forgetting how badly it burns my throat. Fucking fizzy drinks. Red Bull all the way, you bitchy little brown liquid. Yeah, I'm having a verbal fight with a fucking can. In my head. Whatever, I had four big bars of Cadbury's, I'm fucking allowed to be loopy in my own bloody head. It is mine, after all. Heh.

It takes me a while longer to finish up all the Cola, and then my Red Bull – throat still on fire, fucking hell! – before I slowly get to my feet, making sure I can walk straight. My equilibrium isn't so great at the best of times, I think I've walked into my bedroom door at least fifteen times this week making my way to the bathroom, and not for bodily needs that girls might have. Yeah. Fucking girls. Whatever.

After I'm completely sure I'm not gonna walk into just about everything I see (road included) I make my careful way into the studio, doing my best not to break out into skipping. Damn, skipping shouldn't even be possible if you aren't... I dunno, six years old? Yeah. It's fucking crazy, I'm about ten times more likely to kill myself if I skip than I am if I don't, so of course I immediately want to bloody fucking go and _skip._ And Mello would think I'm a total retard!

Why do I care if he thinks I'm weird, if I spend all my time jacking off over him and he knows it? Because that makes me fucking immature. If I'm immature, I'll just be a fucked up, confused little kid. And I'm not two of those three things. The two I'm not would be confused and a little kid. But I am fucked up. Hell, how many fifteen years old guys do you know that spend the majority of their time jerking themselves off over the mere thought to a fucking grown man?! Seriously.

I dunno. Maybe that is normal. I hope not. I like to be the freaky outcast one, thanks very much. Heh.

Ok, so I say freaky outcast. What I mean is, I prefer to be different, and not follow the crowd. Who the fuck cares who the hottest celebrities are, and what they do? I figure it's better to deal with your own life instead of getting sucked into other peoples... Although I don't have fucking time to care about other bloody people. My schedule is bloody hectic! Dancing, gaming and jerking off pretty much eat up all my time, and one of those isn't even a full time occupation. And I think it's pretty obvious the single one I don't do on a daily basis.

What with all my bullshitting around, I almost ended up forgetting about that little thing. Opening the fucking door and going into the fucking studio place. Because I have to get back at Mello, remember? Heh. Because there's some fun to be had, you see. This was the point of the hyperactivity and slowing down of my brain, remember? So I can do stupid stuff and regret it later rather than sooner. Fun shit.

Anyway, after a short moment of confusion on my part as to how doors actually work, I eventually managed to stumble inside in a scarily drunken way, getting a disapproving look from the girl on the desk that seems to like eating fucking lemons. Because of the way her face looks? I dunno, whatever. I like to insult bitches. Especially ones that don't like me. Just like her and Takada. Urgh.

It takes me a little longer than usual to get to the room I usually get my ass bitched up in – yeah that's a phrase, damnit! – but when I do, I'm in for far more of a shock than my hyperactive, hormonal body can really handle.

Y'know how Mello's the hottest thing since ever? Yeah, he's fucking... Almost clothes-less? I think I just turned illiterate... Bloody motherfucking hell!

That's an odd thing to walk in on; Mello changing. Out of something tight. Into something even tighter. Something tight and leather, that practically sticks to him, and he's not even all in yet! Fuck. Drool, go away, fucking hell! He's half in a pair of fucking unbelievably tight trousers, no fucking kidding.

It takes me a little longer to register the slightly less-than-comfortable wetness in my pants, but when I finally do, I practically fall over myself to get the fucking hell out of there, my laces magically coming undone as I sprint – unsteadily – from the room, and then the building, willing myself not to imagine the sexy, mocking, amused expression that would be on his fucking perfect face if he noticed me... Oh fuck, who am I kidding? Of course he bloody noticed I was there, when does he not?!

It's like he's got a fucking sixth sense that tells him I'm there, and gives him the perfect opportunity to fucking laugh his ass off, the bitch . Urgh, this is evil.

I almost trip about twenty times, but only actually fall over once, killing my knee, which is probably now sprained along with my ankle. I'm in a stupid hurry to get home, and I manage it surprisingly fast, probably because of adrenaline or some similar shit. Oh my fucking.... fuck. I.... Damn! All my hard work put into not fucking myself up like that!

I tried my best for fucking ages not to screw up in such a fucked up way, and all of a sudden I'm too distracted to worry about motherfucking _self control_ and everything screws! DAMN!

Not fucking good, he's probably pissing himself laughing. Shit. Only, he won't be, because he has more fucking control than I do, and he's more fucking mature, and has a better body...

Why the fuck did that come up? Actually, come to think of it... Who the hell changes in a fucking massive room like that? Why didn't he change at his home or whatever shit? Fuck. Now I'm curious about all that, along with my newly resurrected hard on. Shit.

Alrighty... So the sugar's already gone and worn off, probably because of the energy I needed to sprint the whole way back, making the whole fucking thing pointless. Whatever. I'm going to fucking get him back, I swear to fucking god – something I don't often do, since I'm not religious, but still.

I obviously have to switch into a different pair of jeans, because my current ones are completely screwed now, but that's.... Oh fuck. All my normal, baggier ones are being fucking washed (or pretending to be washed, what bullshit) so I'm stuck with a fucking dark grey pair of skinny jeans. Skinny fucking jeans! To a dance lesson! With Mello! This is a motherfucking apocalypse, I swear. Shit.

Maybe he'll think it's a... gesture of some sort. I hope not... That'd be fucking shitty. A gesture of, 'hey Mello, here's my ass in tighter shit than usual'. That's how you get a fucking pervert to take fucking advantage. Fucking hell.

I'm so screwed. Damnit. Ok, what am I going to do... Huh, same as I planned, I suppose. Go and try my best to fuck with his head... How the fuck I'm going to do that now I don't know. Fuck, my brain is so screwed from the shock of it all. Bad. BAD, DAMNIT!

I'm yelling at myself, in my own head. I guess it could be worse... I could be yelling out loud. Or Light could be yelling... Come to think of it, where the fuck is he? He hasn't even yelled an insult up at me... Maybe he went out as well? Huh. I guess he does have more of a social life than I do. Bastard.

Sad thing is, it takes me several minutes to psych myself up before I can actually leave the house in tighter-than-usual clothing, and still with a fucking issue in my pants as well. Shit.

I walk my way back really slowly, for no real reason, but I should probably move faster, in case I flip out, freak, and decide to just skip the lesson altogether, let alone get there too early. I'm making a fucking habit of that, aren't I? Getting there early, getting screwed around with (my head, duh) and then having to dance in front of fucking twenty other guys. Still, it could be worse.

Mello could be older and uglier. That'd definitely fuck up my brain... Seriously. I mean, there's no way in fucking hell I'd still be going if that were the case. It's a little different to be perved on by a guy that's at least an almost alright age for me, if I were older and shit, but it's totally different if....

Actually, I don't need to think about this. Because it didn't happen, and I do have a fucking sex god as my 'teacher', or whatever he might be called now. I don't think teacher fits, because then I think of marker pens, schools and white boards. Bullshit. Mello would never fit in there. It just doesn't seem his scene, to me at least. Maybe he's a motherfucking genius, I dunno.

Still, I do know he's naturally perfect at fucking everything, and that I like him a whole lot more than I should in order to be fucking normal, but whatever. I'm not normal, this has been established. Screw that.

For once, it feels like the building's actually looming over me, taunting me, telling me I can't do it, not now. Not after I've been so bloody fucked up in that very motherfucking room. Damn, I'm reading too far into everything. The fucking building's always been the same size, it's all in my bloody head. Right. Let's go!

Probably in a bit of an overdramatic way, I kick the doors open and storm inside, earning myself a sigh and an eye roll from an increasingly bored looking bitch. Whatever. She's just jealous because Mello pervs on me. Well if that doesn't sound freaky, I dunno what does. Either way, I'm fucking far more awesome than she is. Bitchy little fuckhead.

I have a brilliant image in my head that Mello's still gonna be trying to wriggle into clothes that are too fucking tight even for him and his fucking perfect body, but I'm pretty sure that won't happen. He is fucking.... perfect.... after all.

I've been saying that too much recently. Faultless, flawless, I dunno, whatever, either way, it all means the same, and it means that he's fucking Mello. And that's it, damnit. Unique and all that bullshit. Yeah.

I really didn't mean to blast into the room quite so violently, and I certainly didn't mean to yell at him.

"What the hell did you do that for?!"

I'm officially stupid. And maybe the sugar didn't really wear off as much as I thought. Fuck. Yeah, I feel like a complete idiot, definitely. Of all the things I could've yelled... And now he's laughing. He does laugh in a very beautiful way... Musical, almost. But nice. Yeah. Hmm... I like his laugh. Definitely. It's dangerously... Perfect. There's that fucking word all over again, damnit. Well, whatever. It's a pretty sound.

Maybe I am in love, like the girls in all the movies, that get so caught up, and it seems to fake... huh. Damn. I do hate girls sometimes. Sappy little bitches, most of them.

Throughout my scarily feminine inner monologue about how nice his laugh is, he finally manages to regain the ability to speak, his voice is still musical with amusement, and obvious mocking.

"Do what, Fiery? I don't recall doing anything specific..." he said, holding a finger to his lips thoughtfully, his frame looking overly delicate in that position, taunting me horribly. Bastard.

"You know what you did perfectly well," I snap, scowling. I started this, so I may as well continue. Even if it is obvious I'm going to lose this argument really badly. Oh well.

I almost die when he hooks his fingers into his belt, making a small wriggling movement. "Oh... I might recall?" he smirked evilly, bathing in my almost petrified indecision. He knows exactly what's going through my head. And what was going through my head. And all that shit. Damnit, I guess I'm either really readable, or he's fucking magic.

And since magic doesn't exist – sadly, I guess – I suppose it really has to be that he's good at reading people, or that I drop some of my calm demeanour and act more natural, for me at any rate, when I'm around him. Shit. I wish I could keep up my immaculate, unconcerned appearance around him, it'd save me so much bother. Well, whatever.

Damnit, how do you tell a hot guy to stop pretending to strip for you? HOW?! Gah. Eventually I settle with making a loud noise of protest, even though it seems a little disjointed from the situation. Though he does sort of pay attention, removing his hands a little to place them firmly on his hips.

"You've got no guts. Why don't you fucking come and make me stop?" He sounds sort of lethal like that, but his hands are sliding across his belt now, so I guess he's being serious. I knew he was a stripper... Well no, I didn't, but he dances like a fucking god. Wait... I'm making no sense anymore, damnit! Stop him. Right... yeah. What if I don't want him to?

Either way, he should stop. Yeah. It takes me a second or so to properly convince myself, and by that time he's already starting to work his belt off, which causes my breath to hitch, but I still lunge forwards, relishing at the previously non-existent chance to 'accidentally' swipe my fingers across his bare skin while I grab his wrists, twisting them until I can force them behind him, wondering if kneeing him violently in the back would be going too far... yeah. That's a little too far, and probably wouldn't go down all that well either. Damn. Either way, I have the advantage now.

Or I would've had the upper hand, had he not been a good deal stronger than me. I really should've fucking seen that one coming, but no. I ended up on the ground in a heap of shock (is that possible? No idea) feeling vaguely hornier than before. Apparently I like to get my butt kicked. Great, I'm a masochistic douche bag, just what I needed.

Pretty quickly, Mello drags me off the floor, smirking in that way of his again, still looking amused at my frigging issues. And I do have a few to count off at the moment.

"Huh. Nice try. You suck at this," he pointed out, kindly, all the while keeping a tight hold on my hand. So I can't escapes? Huh. Weird guy... Sexy, but weird. How bloody irritating.

Oh my.. Fuck. I suddenly feel like my personal bubble is quickly evaporating, as Mello steers me back carefully, pressing me up against a wall, for the second time in however long. And I've learnt this isn't a great situation for me. Especially when he's involved. Actually, it might be specifically because he's involved. Yeah, that sounds about right. Fuck.

So, my arms are pinned against the wall, leaving me more than a little bit restricted in my movements, and if I even try to move my body half a centimetre off the fucking wall, I'll find myself pressed a little bit too hard against a very hot blond. Fuck.

Huh. You know in the films or whatever, when people are about to kiss? And they lean forwards, with that look on their face? Yeah. Um. Yeah.

There's a seemingly horribly awkward pause, and I was tempted to do the whole 'Awkward Silence Turtle' thing, but I didn't. For a number of very obvious reasons. Still... It's...I... Um.

Yeah, while I did my best to deal with my inner turmoil, my body dealt with the problem. In the wrong way, I might add. Next thing I really noticed, I had my mouth firmly pressed against... Mello's. ?! When... Why... WHAT?!

I suddenly realise I closed my eyes (I won't make any comments about girls closing their eyes and rapists... Heh) and open them, intentionally for only a second or so, but then I end up leaving them like that. His eyes are rather entrancing, see, even though they're wide in shock. A shock that doesn't diminish for about half a minute or so, when I'm starting to wonder how awkward a situation this really is, and whether or not I should've moved by now.

Any normal person would've taken this opportunity to get the hell out of there, while he's uncharacteristically immobile, but no, not me. I guess I'm too intrigued with the whole situation to even think about moving, really. Maybe I'm completely screwed in the head. I'm sort of... ok, not really, but whatever... kissing a guy I seem to like quite a lot. I'm such a fucking freak.

There's another few seconds of pause, before two palms come to my face, and I feel his lips moving gently against mine, and I just about die of shock. So much, it takes me forever to realise I'm even responding. But I am. Quite a lot, actually. I didn't realise I could be enthusiastic about anything other than my games.... Weird...

All this kissing shit goes on for quite a while, surprisingly innocent for something that involves Mello, but eventually he moves back, completely releasing me, frowning a little bit.

"Uhm... Yeah. Well... Um...."

Is he actually speechless? He sort of started it... Ok, so I don't think it was even his intention. I probably made a fucking shitty mistake, just because that's how I roll. Still. It's his fault I made that mistake, so surely... It's his fault he's speechless? No, that logic would be flawed. Ok. It's all my fault, but that seems so weird. Did I actually manage to have an effect on him? Damn.

I think I almost actually died of shock when I was very suddenly slammed back up against the same fucking wall, and Mello's mouth was almost immediately crushed against mine, his body pressed up against me as well.

Well that was... unexpected. I swear though, I was almost melting by the time his hands had slid from my shoulders to trail lightly across my hips, making me shiver, and I was pretty much trying to hyperventilate when I felt his tongue gently slide across my lower lip. I was doing my best to keep up, but to be honest it's not an area I'm particularly skilled in. At all. I've never really... Been in a situation like this before. Ever.

It does feel... Bad though. Feels alright. Oddly alright, actually. Damnit, there goes all the blood in my body to a part of me I really wish would behave sometimes

Hesitantly, I part my lips, just a little, and I can feel his approval from the way his body tenses just a tiny bit, hips jolting a little in a way I'm going to assume was subconscious. And being the horny little bastard I am, I can barely resist the automatic urge to reciprocate. No, maybe that's the wrong word. I wanted more friction. Yeah, that's pretty much it.

More. A lot more. Fuck I'm a fucking hormonal little teenage douche bag. Not that Mello seems to mind too much... He's still doing his best to force me to respond in a way I guess he'd class as 'proper', which I'm going to assume is pretty much in the same way he's attacking my mouth. Mouth because it's no longer the same sort of innocent movement it was before, but more... adult, maybe?

Again, not the right word, but to be honest I don't give a shit anymore. How many times have I gone and fucking imagined this? A lot. And now I'm fucking pressed against a wall with Mello against me like this... Well, fucking wow.

My fingers wind into his hair slowly, tugging a little, I suppose, but he didn't seem to mind all that much, taking half a second or so to breath before continuing, taking full advantage of my now hangin-open mouth. Hey, I needed to breath, and I haven't had a real opportunity to jaw drop, have I now? No. Fucking. NO.

I ended up making some fucking weird, moaning sounds as his tongue effectively molests the insides of my mouth, leaving me once again completely breathless, with a strange feeling coursing through me. No, actually that's a lie. I know that feeling... It's the one I always get after I... Oh fuck. Not twice...? No. Alright, so I panic over nothing, fuck off. I mean, it was understandable... But fucking hell does Mello do something to me.

One of his very leather-clad legs slides between mine, doing the same trick of grinding up against me while he continues to kiss... or make out with me, whatever. Either way, I think I'm about to jizz fucking everywhere. I guess I must've startled him or something, because directly after I moaned in a slightly different way – want, obviously, but that's hardly my fault! – he jumps back very suddenly, like he only just realised what happened. Or like... Huh. No, he's the one with all the control and shit.

He practically sprints out of the room though, in pretty much the same way I did earlier. Although he's a lot more graceful, despite his longer limbs and added height. Damn does he look amazing when he runs, even if he is stumbling a little. Did I really do that? Bloody fucking hell.

It takes a while before he returns, by which point I'm just sitting up against the wall – a different one, I might add – and waiting for the lesson to start. There's only.. what, five more minutes? Yeah, about that. Not enough time for him to get anything else started, provided that he wants to. Which I don't think he does, strangely...

He has a light pink dusted across his cheeks, like the vague aftermath of a blush that's still receeding, and he's a little edgy. Weird... Maybe... No, I'll keep away from those thoughts. That's how to make myself fucking get shit all over my pants, which I don't want.

Checking my watch, I realise people're going to be heading inside in roughly thirty seconds, and drag myself to my feet slowly, keeping a wary eye on Mello in case it's just an act or something, and bracing myself for the onslaught of noise that's about to ensue.

Sure enough, there's a very sudden thundering sound as everyone bursts inside, but other than that, the rest of the lesson passed in a bit of a blur. Probably because in comparison, nothing particularly exciting happened. Exciting, that's a strange way to say it... Whatever.

The way home was a blur as well, because I was dangerously preoccupied by the memories and sensations still. Dangerous because I travel near roads.

However, as soon as I got home, I was jolted violently back to reality. By none other than my wonderful 'brother'.

"You're late! Where the fuck were you all day?! What is your fucking problem with leaving fucking clothes everywhere?!" Wow, a royally pissed off brother. Now that's all I need.

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**W00t! So how was that? I really hope it didn't fail too badly... Heh. Uhm, massive thanks to my wonderful reviewers, because I wuffle you all! *glomps and cookies!* If anyone else wants to review... well, it'd be lovely :D And I recently discovered how to check how many hits this story has! [thank you Shinigami :D] It's got... a big number :O:D 800 and somthing, I believe :D So yeah... hugs to the rest of the readers too, because I like you awwll!! :D Anyways. I'll go away now :D **


	7. The Dressing Room

***grin* Bet no-one expected such a quick update, am I right? The reason for this would be that I've had this chapter panning out in my head since the first chapter was being written, and voila, here it is at last! It was so easy to write, I was suprised as hell.. Heh. Anyways... Yup, there're probably some mistake or whatever, but I think it's just fine the way it is... Hopefully xD Eh, I'm so critical :D Tis fun, si? Heh. So um...I hope this is a little different.. You know how it is :D**

**Disclaimer - I don't own... Mello. Not much, anyway ;D Heh... *cough* Yeah, I don't own him at all D: *sob***

**Warnings - Um... Swearing. Plenty of that. Yeah. And no. No more warnings, I'm afraid. YOU SHALL SEE!!! :D**

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So, it'd be a lie to say I didn't expect Light to blow his top at some point. But now? Really? That might've just been one of the best days of my short fucking life. I say might've been, because I've still got some to live for – hopefully, anyway – and I'm sure there's plenty more to come my way, knowing my luck. My non-existent luck, by the look on Light's face. I think he might be about to tear my head off and feed it to... I dunno. Someone?

I notice the death glare hasn't worn down at all, and quickly look up again, doing my best to pay proper attention.

"Aren't I allowed a life of my own?" I guess I could've said smarter things, given my 'situation'. Maybe there isn't a situation, actually? I don't know. I suppose that might be a little ungrateful or whatever shit. Still, it's not like he's the nicest person in the world, so this had better not been a fucking lecture.

"Of course... Provided I know what the fuck is going on, you little bastard!" That I wasn't expecting. Is he fucking worried or something? So what if I was out fucking early to fucking... Now? It's not his bloody business what I go about doing, right? Right. Fucking hell, he's acting like my fucking parent or some shit.

Oh. I suppose he is technically my only parent figure... but whatever. That's bullshit, because if that were true, he should really take more care of me, the bastard. Whatever.

"I thought that was the damn 'my life' part of my previous sentence!" Maybe I'm being a little too snappy, but he ruined a relatively good mood. And they're pretty rare, unless I just beat Ocarina of Time for the tenth time or something. I like to beat all my games ten times exactly. I dunno why, I just do. Ten's a good bloody number, thanks.

"I'm so fucking sick of your attitude, Mail fucking Jeevas!"

"And I'm so fucking sick of you." That came out far colder than I intended. I didn't even yell it like Light did, just spat it out in short, sharp, venomous syllables, filled with a shocking amount of hatred. I guess I really can hold killer grudges, and this one just got shit out all over that line. You know, the one that you don't ever cross. Yeah. I crossed that line just there.

I think something inside him just exploded. Worrying thing is, it didn't make him madder. I can deal with mad, because he never really means what he says. But calm, no. That's too dangerous. Too fucking dangerous. And it shows now, I'm pretty fucking positive that yes, that line has in fact been fucking screwed up and chucked right back in his face. Shit.

"Well then. You have ten minutes to get the fuck out of this house."

I think something inside me may have just shattered. So there I was, taking my place in my own fucking parents' house for granted, and now... I'm being kicked out? No fucking way, I have to have heard that wrong, right? Right?! Fucking wrong, I suppose, because now Light's looking theatrically at his watch, one eyebrow raised as he looks back at me.

"Well? Hurry the fuck up." The amount of venom that can put into five little words shocks me into action, and I make my way numbly up to my room, finding myself a rucksack and fucking massive bag to shove my shit in. I empty pretty much my entire wardrobe into the bag, then set about trying to fit my electronics into the rucksack.

I only managed to get my computer, GameCube and a couple of good games in before I realise that's all I'm going to be able to take, otherwise my arms are going to break within seconds. Shit. Just a few cables... Right. Yeah. I'm done. Packed. Ready to fucking... Leave. Home. At fifteen. Fucking hell... I'm still fucking numb. You know when you feel like you're floating outside of your own body, a spectator to your own life rather than actually in charge? Yeah, that's exactly how I feel now. I shove my DS and a couple of games into the back pocket of jeans that are still far too fucking tight for me, before slowly moving back downstairs, glancing around slowly.

Damn. And I've lived here my whole life... I don't believe I'm fucking listening to Light, but the fact is if I don't get the fuck out of here myself, I'm just gonna get picked up and bodily hurled from the building, and that way I won't get to take any of my shit with me either.

All I need is my wallet and bank card and I suppose I'll be set. Wow. Damn, this is weird... Um. I really don't know what to say. Yeah. Weird, I know. Little bastard-like me, always with some fucking little comment to make or whatever shit.

Right. Yeah. Gotta go... Do shit, I suppose. Damnit, I wonder if Near would let me camp out at his place? No, I doubt it... I'm a total douche bag towards him, he's got no reason to help me out... Still, it's worth a shot. I mean, where the fuck else can I go? Other than if I go live in the fucking dance studio. Fucking hell, I might as well just become Mello's personal slave if I do that. Shit.

Light's giving me a death glare, so with a final glance around the hallway – hey, I don't have fucking time to go to every room, do I?! – I walk straight out, and I don't even so much as look around as I slouch down the road, only looking up from the ground and my feet after I've already been walking for about ten minutes.

Great, I've travelled straight down to the shopping place. Urgh, I suppose I'd better start heading to Near's fucking house. He lives right out of town as well, damnit... This is going to take me forever. My arms are already aching half to their death, and I've got a half hour walk ahead of me. Bloody fucking hell, this isn't going bloody well already.

Why do I have to go and fucking piss Light off like that for once? Of all the things I could've said... Or not said, for that matter. Damnit, I have to go stick my fucking big mouth into every bloody situation and fuck shit up for myself, don't I.

Twenty minutes since I left my house, and halfway through my incredibly uneventful journey to the bloody sheep's place, I already feel like death warmed over a little. You know, like if you ask the French to cook a steak, they leave it all raw in the middle? Yeah, that lump of meat is me. Fucking hell.

Bloody hell, this is weird... I mean, I just realised that if I can't stay at Near's place, I'm completely fucked. Seriously, completely and entirely screwed. I don't fucking believe the probably outcome of the rest of my fucking life is depending on him. I mean, if I were him, I'd definitely screw me over for being such a bastard.

I'm so fucked.

Still, I keep walking. After all, what choice do I really have? There's nowhere fucking else I can go. Damnit, why did I have to be such a jerk? Why do I have to get all weird and have a midlife crisis now? Why do I bring all this shit upon myself?!

Damnit, I hate it when I can't answer my own damn questions. Urgh, I'm such an idiot sometimes, I swear I am. It's worrying that I hate myself right now... I mean, who the hell else is gonna like me if even I hate me? Fuck. And I was almost fucking happy today. God-fucking-damnit. I'm getting fucking pissed off, and I'm tired, and I'm fucking starting to hurt like shit as well.

I've practically gotten into the countryside by now, and since pavements and cars scarce, I figure it's easier just to walk my way down the middle of the road. It's not like anyone's crazy enough to drive like a maniac down here anyway, right? Yeah. Whatever.

Of course, just as my luck happens to be, I have to get fucking proven wrong, don't I? Fucking yeah I do. I almost end up stuck permanently in the bushes lining the road by some bastard driving at ninety miles an hour down a road fucking two metres wide. The fuck is up with that?!

Seriously, the damn moron's practically begging to run someone over and get shit on their license or whatever happens. Urgh. I hate that tosser right now. Coming to prove me fucking wrong, try and kill me, and put me in a worse mood than before, all at once.

Still, a short distance ahead I hear a pretty lethal screeching of breaks, and probably at some middle point, I find myself trying to walk through another body. A pretty well kept body, I might add. Pretty tough looking. I get a little caught up in the torso, which is covered in some awesome, tight-fitting black material. Hmm.

It takes me a little while to remember that it's usually politer to look in the direction of someone's face instead. Which I do. And just about shit myself from shock as well.

Mello.

No fucking way! He just fucking went and tried to kill me! Well ok, maybe that's an overreaction... I expect it wasn't so much his intention to kill me... But still! I'm allowed to fucking overreact today, aren't I? Fucking yeah I am. I mean... I'm currently technically a homeless orphan. Shit. I really hope social services don't catch up with me, that would suck ass, massively. Damn.

Well, whatever. I might as well mention that he looks about as fucking amazing as usual. Urgh. Could this day fail anymore? I mean, I've embaressed myself massively by accidentally starting a fucking snogging session with him, and now he has to turn up like this. Great. Oh, I think he's talking. Just bloody wonderful.

"Matt? What the fuck are you doing round here with all that shit?" Huh, decent question I suppose. The thing that really got me there was the use of my actual name. What the fuck happened to 'Fiery' and 'Fire Head'? Oh well. Still, it's weird not being referred to in a funny way by him. I suppose I'll get over it.

I just shrug though, because I don't really trust myself to not break down into a panic attack if I do. Though, I should've anticipated that he wouldn't accept that as an answer. I mean, he's hardly the most... Um, the most likely to leave me be. Right? Yeah, whatever.

"Come on, you've got fuck loads of crap with you, what the hell are you doing?" I sigh. He can't drop it, I suppose... I hate persistence sometimes. Still... I suppose... No, I own him fucking nothing. Damnit... Still... Oh fuck, this is probably a bad idea, but whatever. I'll tell him. Shit. I bet this blows up in my face.

"My brother kicked me out." There. That's about as honest as it gets, especially from me. The look of concern on his face all of a sudden freaked the shit out of me though. I mean... I thought I was his little plaything or whatever. I didn't realise he actually gave a shit... Weird. Uh. Ok, so I genuinely just saw _Mello_ of all people jawdrop. Bloody hell... Now I've seen everything... or something to that effect, anyway. Whatever.

"So what, you're homeless or some shit?" Yup, that seems like Mello. Blunt and to the point. I just nod. I get this feeling if I open my mouth I'll end up spouting all sorts of shit and going into hysterics. Even if my thoughts are perfectly calm, the rest of me feels like it's on the verge of collapse.

"Oh... Well, where can you go and stay?" No nod this time, just a shrug. I'm definitely nearing a very hysterical point. Damn... I actually feel like my life is falling apart in front of me now, and I have no idea why. I mean... I... I don't know! I don't fucking know anymore! Fuck.

This time, he sighs, then grabs my arms and practically drags me across the ground to his car, opening the door to the passenger seat open for me. "Get in." It sounds a lot more like an order than a request. Now it's my turn to jawdrop, which I do, and stare at him like he's damn insane. Which I expect he probably is.

I mean, it's practically the same as getting in the car with a stranger. Only worse, because I actually know he's a total pervert. Fucking hell... He has to be joking. I'm meant to trust him enough not to molest me while I'm feeling so fucking screwed up to actually fucking get in a car with him?! Where the fuck is he even going to take me? To his house? I don't know! I don't even know where abouts he fucking lives. Shit. This has to be a bad idea.

Sadly, my unfortunate, screwed up, tired body doesn't give a shit about logical reasoning any more, and just obeys his command, stepping into the car and dropping all my crap to my feet, careful not to crush them. They're probably fucking blistered to pieces, I'm not used to walking however far in fucking Converses. They aren't fucking designed to walk in, apparently. Not that this ever really mattered to me before, I barely walk anywhere.

Well, I used to barely walk anywhere, but whatever. Converses equals bad for walking. Simple enough word equation, right? Right, damnit! Fuck, I'm getting overexcited over fucking everything now. In short; I think I'm going fucking mental. Just what I fucking need.

Though I don't have much time to dwell on this, since Mello's gotten in on his side and switched the engine back on. I have to say, I sort of like his car... Not too flashy. I didn't even consider the thought of him driving (why would I? I have better things to consider) before now, but I guess I would've expected him to have a really mentally expensive car. Maybe he's not all that loaded? Hm. He always struck me as the sort of guy who'd have fuck loads of cash. Mostly because leather is bloody expensive, especially if it's decent quality.

Well, whatever. I suppose since I've now put myself in a totally screwy mess, I might as well just... sit back and take it. I'm not in the mood to kick up a fuss and go mental right now. I can have my hysteric fit later, when everything really hits me. Shit though, I've managed to get myself in a fucking crappy situation... I really wouldn't usually have chosen to go and crash out at Mello's place – wherever that might be, damnit – for however long I'm going to need to. Shit.

Honestly, he wouldn't even have been on my list, due to his rather... Ok, due to his completely pedophilic tendencies. Seriously. Damnit though, why... No, I'm going to drop asking the same goddamn questions over and over again. Let's just try and live through... A week or so, let's say. Yeah. Damn, and now I'm talking in a way that's so weird and unlike me it's scary.

Huh, the car stopped. I guess the general meaning of that would be that we're here.

I think I almost had a heart attack as a certain blond leant over towards me. Seriously. As it happens, he was only getting my fucking big-ass bag for me. Not that I thought... Or... Whatever, I'm a perverted minded little douche bag, so leave me alone. It's not my fault, he hardly acts like a saint, does he? Bleh.

Still, it's pretty nice of him... I must be a fucking nice if he's not being a total... Actually, I don't even know. Maybe he is actually a pretty nice guy? Huh. Weird... I'll have to think on that one.

Actually, I'm a little surprised at how uneventful the journey was. Even my thoughts stayed put for once... I suppose slight emotional trauma can do that to someone. Actually, I'm not even sure if that's the right way to describe it. What worries me is that I might have just signed myself up to live with Mello.

Speaking of which, his apartment complex seems pretty damn nice. Not as in dangerously posh, where teenagers are viewed like slugs are, but as in... nice. I dunno how to describe it really. It's not all that massive looking, and it looks like it's in a pretty decent part of... Actually, where is this? I'm pretty sure it's somewhere close to where Near lives... Maybe he isn't as secluded as I thought. Weird.

It takes me a moment to notice that my door's actually been opened for me, until the point that I'm actually physically hauled from my seat, and held bridal-style by a sort of annoyed looking Mello.

"Pay attention, would you?"

Unsuprisingly, I can only think of one thing to actually say to this. "Put me down!"

Well, it's hardly my fault. He scared me. And I'm currently in a state of either panic or numbness, I honestly can't tell. Neither are things I feel on a regular basis, after all. Still, he does oblige, and surprisingly not by directly dropping me onto my butt, but actually nicely putting me back on the ground, and even making sure I'm alright on my feet, before sauntering into the building, just expecting me to follow. Well, I guess he can't always been caring. Whatever. It's less freaky when he's... 'normal'.

What I count as normal might be counted as weird for someone else though... Mello-normal is him being sarky, rude, and unconcerned. I quite like him like that, to be honest... I'm a freak, obviously. Well, whatever. I like it when people act in ways I would expect. I hate it when they don't do what I expect them to, because it makes me feel weird, like I don't properly understand or something. Bleh.

Still, after half a second of hesitation, I quickly dash after him, wincing on each step. Yeah, I officially hate walking. If I even walk for more than ten minutes ever again, I'm going to murder something. I think that's really my limit... My poor _feet_! Damnit does that sound weird... Oh well. I'm a little more worried about how existing with Mello is going to work. Damn.

Kindly, he takes the lift instead of the goddamn stairs, which I'm really damned thankful for, because otherwise I might just've died. Seriously. I think I'm about to fall over and kill myself accidentally or some shit about now, I think the soles of my feet have actually split in two.

Still, despite the extra walking that takes us to his apartment, I don't feel too shitty. I suppose it's nice to know I'm not living on the streets.

I'm still waiting for the hysterics though.

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**So, how was that? There's a little more before any... OH YEAH! I was gonna answer some questions :D**

**Is the next chapter going to be up on sunday? Theoretically, yes, it will still be posted at the same time as the last few, even though this is so early :D**

**When are they goign to have sex? I'm going to say, not next chapter. And I shall say no more, alrighty? Heh. I'm so cruel ^^**


	8. Killers Like Candy

**Heh, we're sort of back to the land of short chapters.. I'm sorry D: Thing is... I couldn't think of anything else to write. Hands up if you expected Matt and Mello to get doooowwwnnnn now that they're living together ;D Well... You were wrong :3 Sorry :D Well, for this chapter at any rate :P Sorry, it's just as boring as the last one... well, maybe less so. I'll do my best to make it awwlll better soon though, and it will make sense!**

**Another thing, hee hee... I was convinced this made no sense and was thoroughly screwed up. However, Mello told me it wasn't. So I posted it up here.. and stuff :D Fun, right? Otherwise I probably would've deleted it all... All hail my mighty beta!! :D**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Mello. Nor have I created any of my own brands of chocolate, nor did I think of the name of this chapter. Shocker. :D**

**Warnings - One of Mello's infamous chocogasms, Matt's ability to swear like a sailor, and an appartment. Wait, that's not bad... **

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So, to be honest, life with Mello isn't all that different to how life had been with Light. Well, he's less of a douche bag, but that's about it.

No, scrap that, that's not true at all. It's completely fucking different. He's better to live with, for the most part... Though I wouldn't say it's not awkward. Hell, I'd be crazy if I said that, of course it's damn weird living with him, of all people. Damn though, it's kind of... Cool. Yeah. I mean, obviously it's different, I mean... Light versus Mello? No competition. Seriously.

Yeah, he's actually capable of cooking for someone other than himself, which I don't get, because it doesn't seem like anyone's lived with him in a while. Well, whatever. He's almost as untidy as I am, and fucking hell, I actually had to clear about fifty magazines and chocolate wrappers off the couch just to sit down with my beautiful games controller and kick ass at Super Smash Bros. Melee. Awesome.

Great thing is he doesn't care whether or not I actually eat at any designated time, if I'm really absorbed in my games, he just leaves shit in the fridge of out on the counter for me, which is pretty sweet. That said, he doesn't eat all that much, mostly salad type crap – hey, I'm actually beginning to not mind healthy crap, leave off – and then some junk he sometimes orders out for, and sometimes deep fries.

I dunno how the fuck he got a damn deep fryer in his apartment, but it's fucking awesome. I've gotten into the habit of randomly deep frying shit that probably shouldn't be deep fried when I get bored. Well, I did, but then Mello blew a gasket and said I could only use it when he was in the room.

Damn, he's worse than a fucking parent. Still, it's nice to know he's vaguely concerned about my wellbeing. It's sort of awesome, actually... And there I thought he was just a cruel, hot pedophile. Hmm. Bit of contradiction there, but whatever. He's a pretty cool guy, really. Not that I've gotten to know him all that much better or anything, and I have to be careful to stay put while he plays loud music. Other than if I'm really dumb though, most of his slightly less-than-legal actions are kept strictly to the dance lessons, which I still religiously attend every other day.

School hasn't changed at all, though I realised I'd left all my school books at Light's place, and now I have to get new crap and copy up Near's notes into all my books. Damn is that a chore, I swear... Still, I have my priorities. Games. Computers. Actually, I have a lot more spare time now, which is really damn weird... Probably because of my lack of having to cook and take care of goddamn everything. Plus, Mello's epic enough to go buy my Red Bull for me, for which I am eternally grateful.

I think he probably had this presence or reputation around here scares the shit out of people, because I haven't seen or heard a single person yell at him over playing his music too loud, and believe me when I say his taste in music isn't exactly mainstream. Good thing is I don't want to strangle the bands and singers that play his music; I actually quite like most of it... Then again, it's pretty much the same as mine, only... Less innocent maybe? Yeah.

Oh well, I didn't really expect anything different. I mean, it is Mello, after all... Heh. Whatever. I'm pretty sure that this whole living with Mello thing is pretty damn easy, but... Well, like I said before, it's pretty damned awkward sometimes. For some reason I really can't – and don't want to – fathom, he's taken to catching me before I go to school and sort of... Kissing me. A lot. Or only a little. Depends on how he feels, I think. And fucking hell is that weird. I mean, it's been a little while, and I'm still not bloody used to it, not at all.

I mean, it's nice, don't get me wrong, he's a fucking amazing kisser, I'll give him that much, but... I dunno, it feels like I'm living with a fucking boyfriend or something, not a guy that offered to look after me and not let me die a painful death on the streets. Huh. I dunno, maybe he's just that kind of person, I dunno. Oh fuck that, who the hell makes a habit of going round kissing their goddamn guests? No-one, I don't think. Urgh.

Well, I mean urgh in the best way possible, obviously, because... I dunno, it's not so much him that freaks me out, just all the contact and shit. I mean, dancing, I'm used to it, what can I say... But other than that... I dunno, I'm not used to that crap, not at all. Huh, that being how it is, how in the hell do I know he's such a great damn kisser? It's not like I've got anything to judge it by, do I? No. Hm. I'll have to think on that one, apparently.

Still... It's awkward, because depending on _my_ mood, I either get stuck going to school fucking hard, or with a weird tingling feeling running right through me... And I do mean weird. As in, it feels like my whole being is being warmed through in a microwave oven. Wow, I sure do have a way with words. Not.

Ok, so maybe not a bloody microwave, but you know what I mean. Warm. Tingly. All that fucking shit. Yeah. Well, I guess that's Mello... I mean, I'm pretty sure he could have that effect on almost fucking anyone, seriously. I mean... Yeah. Wow. He's fucking... awesome. And all that. My words are all going and fucking themselves up, great.

Well, that's all wonderful and shit, I suppose. Still, it's sort of fun living with Mello, despite all of that... stuff. Yeah. I'd like to say its fun, but maybe that's the wrong thing to say about all that... Eh, whatever. Somehow, I think I'll live. Yeah. Definitely... And all. Uh, I'm tripping over myself. Well, whatever. I have games to play, chips to eat, and Red Bull to drink. For me at least, it doesn't get a whole lot better than that, not at all.

Should be some motherfucking fun right there, what with all the junk in this house... Unbelievably, there are fucking two fridges. One of which I'm not allowed to touch, and it's filled right up with Mello's chocolate. Seriously, I didn't even know there were that many different types of fucking cocoa stuff... Yeah.

Not just bars of chocolate, bottles of sauce, and I think there's some spreadable shit as well. I originally assumed that was for sandwiches or something, but there's no bread in this apartment. Plus, I caught him spooning the crap out of the jar straight into his mouth, looking very much like he was about to cream himself.

Each to his own, I suppose. Chocolate's supposed to be a natural aphrodisiac... and I have proof of this, I guess. Weird. I actually really didn't want to know that.

So yeah... I've survived a week living with Mello. Saturday to Saturday. Yowzers. I mean, it's good. Different, it's quite a nice change of pace really... Eh, I dunno. What more can I really say?

I can say that it's awkward when I really, _really _need to get off, because this place is too fucking small for me to be able to get away with it without him noticing. I bet he planned this... Eh, who the fuck am I kidding, the bastard lived here ages before he knew me, I'm guessing. Well, whatever. It's really fucking awkward... I just really hope he doesn't own any of the adjoining apartments, because fucking hell...

Living with him is causing me a whole lot more trouble than before... Damn. Why am I such a fucking horny-ass bastard? Damn. I swear... Everything he does, he does on purpose. I'm playing games, he has to lean across to get something, or has to pick something up, or has to start molesting a bar of chocolate with his mouth... Then again, he does the whole chocolate thing about ten times a day at the very least... He does fucking like that stuff.

He likes it waay too much, if you ask me... It's fucking creepy, it's... I dunno. But seriously, there is absolutely no need to act like that while you eat freaking candy. I can eat the stuff without getting a massive boner, why the fucking hell can't he?! Not that I pay attention in that way... Um... Awkward. Anyway. I'm not sure about that, his clothes are always so tight anyway... Heh.

He's got a nice body. That's probably really random and shit but... Yeah, he's hot and... stuff. I already knew that, but I sort of... super-know it now. Helpful... Not.

What really pisses me off is that he likes to wander about, forgoing his leather vest, or tight shirts, or whatever. So, shirtless, he happily makes his way about, doing nothing in particular, with leather all over his ass. Sometimes not even that, if he's just taken a shower. I'm surprised he bothers keeping the towel... Fuck-head. Bleh.

Well, at least I have means of distracting myself... I can bet almost anything that he'll randomly decide that I've upset him somehow, and take away my games and laptop... Damn, that'd suck. I'd have absolutely no chance to... Yeah. I'd be screwed. Because then my attention would be all his, whether he knows it or not. Shit.

Then again... He is out at the moment. I don't eat chocolate so much... I wonder why exactly he likes it so much? I mean, it can't be half as good as he makes it out to be... Right? Whatever.

I'm pretty fucking careful though, checking every fucking room to make sure he's out before I go to 'his' fridge. To be honest, the smell makes me feel a little sick... It absolutely reeks of chocolate. It's like getting hit in the face, only with... A smell. Something like that, anyway.

Okaay... Which one, which one? Hmm... To be honest, they all look and smell pretty much the same to me. Well, the packaging's all different colours, but other than that. Eventually, I just select one at random, carefully closing the door to the cool-box type thing, and peeling the wrapped of the top part of it, cautiously nibbling at it.

Huh. It's good. Ok, not good enough to tongue fuck like Mello does, but nice all the same. Whatever. Just as I go to take a proper bite, the door slams against the wall, and Mello storms into the room, not noticing me at first, as he gets himself some chocolate.

Well, I've never been so nervous in my life. He does notice me, after he's chucked about half the bar down his throat, and his eyes narrow when he sees what I have in my hand. His chocolate, maybe? And how the fuck do I get out of this one? I don't. Simple as.

Hello street, goodbye roof... Shit.

* * *

**So, how disjointed and lame was that? *hides* Yeah, I'm that mistrustful and pessimistic... I blame Freddie! *runs in circles* Anyway... Yeah. This is probably one of the last boring chapters, because they're annoying me now :P Two in a row? Bleh. Still, they were dangerously important to the plot line, so yeah :D**

**So.. You know that review button? Yeah, it makes me really happy when you press it and say stuff to me :D I'll be your friend if you do, honest :D And you can even have some effect on what might happen in future chapters, fun right? So.. please click it? Hee hee :D **

**[I'm about to whore out my cosplay group, so do skip this if you don't wanna hear it]  
We're gonna do an Alice in Wonderland shoot, with me [Matty] as Alice [yeah, that means Matt in a skirt, hee hee xD] Mello as the queen of hearts [more skirts? Possibly XD] B as the Mad Hatter, Misa as the March Hare, and Light as the Cheshire Cat. Damn this is gonna be fun, just as soon as we get our outfits all together.. So yeah, when that's done I'll go poke a link.**

**Have a nice day, I'm going away now :D**


	9. Wild

**Oh my kami... Well, here it is, chapter 9, despite it's almost none existance, due to my lack of motivation... Gahhd. Ah well, it is here, almost completely motivated by my wonderful little Mello-type buddy, and also ShinigamiMailJeevas, so those are the two this is dedicated to. Because I feel it necessary to dedicate this to someone. And they work just perfectly :D So yeah, thanks to you two, and um... Yeah.**

**Oh, another thing.. I have a feeling that fanfic was cruel and didn't update some people? If that's the case, go back and read the previous chapter, because if you weren't updated on Sunday or Monday, you possibly won't have read it. Anyway. **

**Disclaimer - Hey, you know those hot guys I write about? Yeah, I don't own them. I do, however, own this plot line, so get your own! :D**

**Warnings - Could it be a lemon? I will say now; it probably sucks, because it's my first EVER! Yay? Anyway, also language and all that jazz **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

He quite literally prowls towards me. Like he wasn't already scary as hell. I mean... Fuck. I think I might just be about to die. And I never even had the chance to tell Light I love him... Oh wait, that's because I don't. Hey, easy mistake to make, when you're about half a chocolate bar away from extinction. Well, whatever, I can be fucking sarcastic in my final moments, can't I?

I'm actually waiting for him to pull a gun out and hold it to my head, just because his expression is that murderous, but he doesn't. Instead, he keeps stalking forwards. Though being me, I don't take steps away from him. Nah, that's just delaying the inevitable.

He is a few inches taller than me, and right now, I think I'm gonna end up with a massive ache in my neck from trying to keep looking up at him, but that's life, I suppose..? Oh well. It's sort of worrying though, because I can't tell if he's about to start fucking growling at me or smirking. Which means one thing, basically. I'm really fucking worried about where this is going.

Instead of waiting for me to comply and take the necessary steps backwards, he just pushes me back, quite roughly actually, until my back hits the wall. I didn't realise there was a free wall in the kitchen, actually... Damn, I'm so fucking unobservant sometimes. Another reason I might be in this mess.

Sad thing is, I actually have the audacity to wriggle my hand up to take another bite out of the chocolate. I gotta say, his expression was priceless, even if it did earn me a smack about the face. And fucking hell did that hurt, so I might be going out on a limb a little to say it was one hundred percent worth it. But it was damn close to that.

He is actually snarling at me now, and as much as I'd like to act offhand and say that it's not the scariest thing I've ever seen... Well, I'd be pretty close to lying. Why do I have to go and antagonise possibly the hottest and most temperamental guy I know? Why? Oh yeah, because I'm fucking messed up in the head that badly. Apparently, anyway. I have a feeling my head's gonna bruise, because I can still feel exactly where his hand was. Shit. Or maybe that's just me and my hormones... Which should really get lost right now.

"Give me my fucking chocolate." Sounds like a reasonable demand, right? So why in the fuck did I just chuck the bloody bad across the room. I'd face-palm myself, but I've currently just had my wrists slammed against the wall with a bruising force. Well shit. He could be a little nicer, even if I am being an asshole... Damn my natural programming.

"Matt... Matty." He sounds pitying... That's sure as fuck not a good thing. "You could've saved yourself a great deal of trouble, you know..." He's leant down a little so that his mouth grazes my ear as he speaks, making me shiver, at that and his tone. Smooth, dark... Actually, quite a bit like his beloved chocolate. Huh. I would get my GameCube that's not a good thing for me about now.

"What if I like to cause myself trouble?" I ask, probably stupidly, flinching a little as he nips at said appendage his mouth was close to. Not that it hurt or anything, it was just fucking unexpected. Not that I ever really expect half the things he does. Whatever.

"Then you've come to the right place," he growls smoothly. I'm not even sure what that tone was. It was certainly employing a little more danger than his last remark was though. Damn. I get this horrible feeling I've just signed myself up for something pretty frigging bad.

A little less expected, he pulls one of my legs up to hook around his hip, the same hand he just used to do that slowly stroking up and down my thigh, and all the while he carefully keeps his eyes trained on my face, studying it for any changes. Other than an initial, short lived look of shock, I manage to look like I really couldn't care less. Which he apparently isn't pleased with.

On the bright side, I get to have both my feet back on solid ground. On the down side, I'm now being dragged by my belt buckle out of the kitchen, his hand flying out to grab some chocolate syrup off the counter before he continues on his way, my body curled around his fist a little to try and keep my balance up. Because y'know, if I lean back, I'm only gonna end up collapsing to the floor, and as much fun as I'm sure it would be, I don't want an angry Mello yanking me to my feet.

So, I'm not sure where I was expecting to be taken, but I'm pretty sure his bloody bedroom wasn't on my list. I don't know why. I guess my head's wired differently to Mello's. Because apparently to him, punishment means... bed? Huh. Shit.

At least I get a short moment to admire the place. Yeah, the one room I've never before graced with my presence. Mello's fucking bedroom. Black curtains and bedspread, both pretty silky looking, which is pretty cool... And then white walls – not what I expected, if I ever expected anything, which... I didn't, actually – and wooden floor boards, partially covered by a thick, furry, black rug. Well, this is a pretty swish place. Better kept than the rest of this place, anyway.

The chocolate sauce gets set down on the small table beside his bed, and I stare at it for a moment, wondering how exactly this was linked to me being in pretty deep shit. Well, I'm pretty sure I don't want to know. Oh. He released my belt buckle in favour of going to sit on the bed.

I assume I'm meant to be somewhere closer to him than I am, so I take a couple of steps in his direction, until I'm apparently close enough for him to get a decent grip on my hip and pull me forwards until I'm actually forced to kneel on between his thighs in order to stay upright.

Any smart ass comment I was about to make was cut off by him pulling my face down so that ours were both level, giving him the perfect opportunity to press a number of soft kisses to my lips, slowly waiting for me to return the gestures, I suppose.

I'm relatively certain that if I were to ignore him entirely for long enough, he might either give up or get angrier, but sadly I don't quite have the control for that. After all, his mouth is pretty fucking delicious... That's a bloody weird description. Well, whatever, it's so damn true.

I try my best to regain my height advantage, and it's a short while before I give up and realise I really don't give a shit. Because it's fine if he's in control, because that's really where he belongs. It feels like a pretty long time before I actually get another chance to speak.

"What happened to punishment?" Sure, I might've mumbled it unwillingly, but his smirk made me feel more than a little bit worried.

"No sweat, Matty, we're getting there." Well if that's not his sexiest face ever, I don't know what is. Dangerous smirk. Apparently I have some freaky danger fetish. Great. Admittedly, my hormones are being fucking screwy right now, meaning I have problems I'd really rather not have when I'm supposedly in the deepest shit I've ever been in since ever.

I do keep going back to that whole trouble thing, don't I? Well, I have reason enough. I mean, this is Mello. He's danger and sex incarnate, I swear it's true. Therefore; I'd have every right to be flipping my lid about now and completely spazzing out, but that's exactly the reaction he probably wants, so I'm just gonna wonder why the hell he isn't kicking me onto the streets or whatever he plans to do.

Plus, when the hell did he realise I actually had a name? Or had he already done that? I honestly have no recollection. Oh well.

Still, I don't really have the time to worry about this whole looming punishment, because more of his lovely butterfly kisses are being pressed to my all-too-willing-to-respond mouth all over again, not long enough for me to get into properly, and definitely not long enough to allow any response other than leaning forwards to initiate them myself a little.

He's almost refusing to give me the chance of a proper make-out moment, which makes me sort of antsy. Because I'm currently being a hormonal bastard, which really isn't what I need right now. Oh hey. Now there's an easy solution.

My hands, previously laying uselessly against the blond's chest come into use, tightly wrapping around his neck, fingers intertwining with soft locks of hair to hold him in place while I attempt to deepen the kiss. Instead of complying, he simply smirks, and I pull away, probably with a very obvious pout on my face. He's mean. And that sounded really fucking pathetic, even just in my head.

"Now, now... Punishment, remember. You can't have unless you work hard, or beg." I can't fucking believe he basically just told me to beg him for the chance to just get a motherfucking proper kiss. Screw that! I have more fucking dignity than all that, even if it doesn't seem that way. I guess that leaves me with option one... But how the fuck do I go about that? Shit.

Alright... So how do you make someone like Mello go insane with want? In fact, how would I even know how to? Might just be my lack of self esteem, but it's not like I'm the sort of person that everyone would go wild over from my mere presence. No fucking way, that's what Mello does. Still, I can always give it a try, I suppose... Damn this is gonna go so badly... And if it doesn't, well fuck me, I'm a bloody genius at this shit. Somehow, the latter seems about as unlikely as me suddenly gaining the ability to fly. No matter what the adverts say, Red Bull can't really give you wings.

Yeah, so how the fuck do I go about this whole working hard business... Hmm.

With a deep breath, I steel myself for what might come my way from my slightly less-than-innocent attempts at this, carefully moving so that my legs are around his hips, my ankles crossing over behind him, while I carefully slide my hands underneath his shirt. I honestly don't believe I'm doing this. And apparently he doesn't either, because his whole frame has stiffened a little. I gently nuzzle my face against the crook of his neck, doing my best not to make any weird purring noises. Yeah. I do that when I'm content, and now seems like a pretty nice time. Damn I'm a freak.

I don't really get what's so important about getting him to kiss me, but... well, whatever. I'll deal with it later; right now I have things so do. People to screw up. Hopefully, anyway. Heh.

Sliding one hand a little further up his chest, I vaguely admire the pretty set of creases it forms in the fabric, before dropping the other to lightly rub circles across the exposed part of his hip, inhaling deeply. I have to say, he does smell really, really good. I've probably pointed this out before, but hey, it's true, so whatever.

I can actually feel his body twitch a little as he forces himself to remain in control. Fucking hell, did I do that? Huh. I'd like to get cocky and say 'yeah, I'm good', but now really isn't the best time, since he's probably about ten seconds away from attacking me. Well, whatever, I've got other things to deal with right now. Like how the fuck do I get a bloody kiss out of this?

Ok, plan initiated.

I slowly shift my mouth from its rather stationary position of just above his shirt to slowly trail up the side of his throat, in what I really hope is a teasing way, to his jaw, where I leave several small, tentative kisses, before moving my mouth so his, doing my best to keep up the multitasking with my hands as well. I'm really not cut out for all this, y'know.

Much to my absolute shock, he responds pretty damn fast, pushing my hands off him and wrapping his arms firmly around my waist. I assume that might just be so that he can get me back and taunt me a little. Well whatever, I got what I wanted without having to get on my knees and plead. Which I suppose is always good.

My head's beginning to spin a little from lack of air when Mello finally breaks away, leaving me slightly flushed and gasping for air, and I'm pretty sure he's much the same, only far more composed, as per fucking usual.

"You're not so bad at this..." he murmured – whoa, sexy voice much – before slowly pushing my shirt of the way. "But how about the other way around?" Like I said; sexiest fucking voice ever. Seriously. That shouldn't even be legal... In fact, I'm pretty sure this isn't, but fuck that. I suppose you could say I started it. So whatever.

Still, I have to fucking fight pretty hard not to squirm as he lightly traces a hand across my chest, before simply pulling my shirt off altogether. I'm gonna go ahead and assume it pissed him off or something. Damn.

My hair feels slightly more messy than usual, but I'm not all that bothered, because his hands are sliding along my waist, before dropping lower against my hip, gently fingering my belt, before linking into one of the belt loops on my jeans and jerking my body forwards, provoking a rather odd, startled sound from me. Somewhere between a gasp and a groan, I think. Well fuck.

If his smirk is anything to go by, my reactions are quite amusing to him. Then again, he always seems to be smirking at the moment... Well, unless you count that point in the kitchen where I thought my life was going to end rather prematurely. Well whatever, I'm still fucking alive and I'd quite like to stay that way.

His hand slid around so it was back at my belt buckle, fumbling with it for a few moments before it came undone, at which point he quite literally tore it from my pants, tossing it off the bed as soon as he'd gotten it completely off. Well damn, that was a little more skilful than I'd expected. Whatever.

Hey though, how come I'm the one shedding all my clothing? Well not all, my shirt, whatever. Still, his body's fucking gorgeous enough, so... yeah.

Almost on their own accord, my hands shift to fiddle with the hem of his shirt for a moment before attempting to tug it over his head, which he allows, before it meets the same end as my abandoned stripes on the floor.

My hands immediately fall back against the smooth skin, and I let my fingertips dance across his stomach and chest slowly, feeling the muscles tense and relax as I do so. Fucking hell does he have a good body... Shit.

I get pretty engrossed in watching the strong muscles rippling beneath silky, pale flesh, and he simply watches the fascinated expression on my face with his trademark grin, before very abruptly yanking me around, twisting both of us so that I end up spread-eagled on his bed, with the blond hovering above me, his expression making me squirm a little. Fuck is he hot.

He stares at me for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching a little as he tries to stay serious, before his face dips down, and I gasp out as he slowly begins to lick a small path down my jaw and throat, not really doing much to try and mark my skin, but sucking and nipping in places, making me bite my lip to restrain any slightly more obscene sounds, hips twitching ever so slightly.

Mello's hands move to pin down my hips as he travels slightly lower, searching across my chest for a more sensitive spot to make me moan, pausing every so often to suck roughly at my skin. I turn my face away quickly; the sheer look of sensual concentration on his face almost sent me over the edge.

It felt so _good_ though, and it's fucking difficult trying not to squirm and arch and buck when something that sexy is working its way across you chest and... stomach.

Yeah, yet again the blond moves lower, mostly just using his tongue now, though I can feel him struggle not to bite down and mark me. I don't know why... I thought this was all about punishing me or something. Maybe he's just being considerate so I don't get asked shit at school. And if that's the case, I'm fucking amazed he gives a shit about that right now.

I'm trying really, really fucking hard not to groan out as he works his way down my body, my muscles tensing up automatically as he flicks his tongue across my flesh, small shudders rocking through my body.

Ohmyfuckingshitwhat?! And that would be the sound that I make when I realise that somehow a certain hot blond's incredibly skilled fingers have managed to KO my jeans more than a little bit, leaving them bunched up around my thighs. Yeah, I think I probably just when bright red, but he's shifted back up now so he's straddling my thighs, calmly smiling as he runs an index finger across my cheek.

"So cute."

That's all the warning I get before he grinds his hips down against me, making an odd sound that might've been a restrained moan. I wouldn't know really, I don't hear those sounds coming from Mello so often, y'know. Still... I couldn't help but gasp and groan, my head lolling back against the silken sheets, his fingertips still softly tracing imaginary patterns over my cheek, before lightly fingering my lips.

Just as I groan out again, he removes his hand, smirking.

"No... You've been bad, haven't you? And you're enjoying your punishment far too much..." To be quite frank, that's possibly the one thing he's ever said that's freaked me out more than anything else in the history of ever. Just because there's so much threat there, promised pain, all that crap. And my fucking kami does that make me _hot_. Maybe I'm just twisted. Well whatever, I doubt I'd be the only one, but I'm the one here right now, and I'd quite happily commit a murder to be here again.

I guess I'm becoming quite possessive over Mello, aren't I...? Well, it's not my fault. He's fucking addictive. And hot. And beautiful. And fucking perfect all round. So, whatever. I'm fucking allowed to be possessive and obsessive and fuck knows what else.

The same fingers that had just been running across my lips and cheek rather abruptly found a much more pleasurable place to play, and I almost punched myself in the face trying to bite down on my fist to stifle myself, almost drawing blood from my knuckles where I'd bitten down a little awkwardly.

That was sort of painful… Though Mello's cancelling that out nicely, starting up a slow rubbing motion, still holding down my hips to stop me from being able to get more friction. Fuck. _Fuck_. Fucking hell if he good… Feels good… Yeah I'm losing my ability to think, and speak, and _breath_…

Frankly, for a lame gamer, I think I'm doing pretty well so far… as in, I could be doing a whole lot worse, but I'm not, rather than I'm actually doing anything right. Whatever. I can be amateur. Why the fuck wouldn't I be?

Uhhm, yeah… And he's working on thoroughly de-jeaning me, meaning that the material that was previously only roughly shoved a little way down my legs is now completely gone. Shit. Well this is a little further than I'd like to be… Fuck. Damn I need to not piss Mello off… He's still smirking at me in that fucking lethal way of his, making me want to be able to curl up and... Do something. Dunno what quite yet. But something.

And it's painfully obvious just how fucking hard I am. I mean, boxers were never designed to not hide that, and he's looking more predatory than before… Even though my pants were already half way down my thighs a little earlier. Apparently he prefers fewer clothes. Again; _fuck_.

And just like that, there's self doubt written all over me as I try to shift away from him and escape his gaze. Because bloody hell does he look like he can see right into your fucking soul. Provided that I still have a soul after all that homosexual jerking off I've done. Whatever, screw religion, I have video games. I also have a Mello sitting on my thighs with his hand on my crotch. Well I sure needed to think about that one.

To be honest, I'm surprised I have broken anything in my hand from biting down on it so hard. Just to fight back a couple of moans as well. But he really doesn't need the satisfaction. Seriously, maybe if I bleed he'll leave me alone. I mean, I already feel embarrassed, vaguely scared, and I must be blushing like a fucking freak.

He doesn't seem to be opposed to increasing the former of that list though, as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my underwear. So naturally, I do my best to squirm myself away from him, and I end up with him pressing his palms roughly against my chest to keep me still, his other hand pulling up my hips to allow him space to remove my unfortunate Legend of Zelda boxers. Not something I want done.

So I keep trying to wriggle my way out of his grip. He wins, I might add. He's bigger, he's stronger, and he's a whole lot more stubborn as well. And on top of all that, I stole his chocolate. In short… I'm screwed.

Literally, apparently.

Kindly, he allows me to roll onto my side and curl up once he's disposed of the last of my clothes on the floor. Well, sure I might fantasize about this crap, but there's a pretty fucking massive wall that separates fantasies and reality. Not one I really want to cross.

Yeah, Matt fucking Jeevas is scared. So go tell fucking everyone, but honestly, you can't fucking blame me. Hello, virgin ass on the line here. I think, anyway. He might be done with humiliating the shit out of me…?

So what if I'm over-reacting? Surely I'm allowed to, just this once? No. Well fucking fine then.

I inhale sharply as I feel him shift around, biting my lip as I felt him arms slide around my waist. It takes me a few moments before I relax against him. His body fits against mine quite nicely actually, even if the feel of leather against the back of my legs does feel a little strange. This only last a moment more, before I'm pulled into an upright sitting position, and Mello's mouth is once against by my ear, forcing me to listen.

"Sorry Matty, but it's just not a punishment otherwise, is it?"

Yeah. So what if I ate his fucking chocolate, it's not like getting raped is the answer to that, is it?! Although… Alright, so I was being stupidly naïve while we were kissing, but seriously… Actually, it probably is my fault, isn't it… Shit.

Of course I fucking notice as he sheds his own fucking skin-tight leather trousers that I've spent so much time staring at, and I also happen to notice as he spits in his palm, jerking roughly at himself and making some very provocative noises as he does so.

So admittedly, I go on about how embarrassed and stupid I feel… But I'm still fucking hard, and he knows it. Makes sure of it, even. Damn.

Shit. Shit, shit, _shit_. This isn't how I really thought my first time would end up being… Or does he think I've already done it? Shit, I hope not… Just because I'm a motherfucking teenager in the current day doesn't mean… Oh holy fucking shit.

No, I might be jumping to conclusions… But seriously, this is _Mello_, I like him a lot and all.. But is this what I want? I don't fucking know, I don't –

Oh fucking fuckery with fucking FUCK on top! Oh shit, fuck, damn, crap, _shit_!

I swear to anything that's fucking _holy_, I'm being tore fucking apart… Shit… shit… He's… Ok, he's fucking huge. Well, that's how it feels to me anyhow. And I feel like I'm being split in two. Fuck. No, not fuck, I don't wanna use that right now, shit, shit, shit..! And the fucking bastard went and moaned out like this is fucking _luxury_. Fuckhead.

He lightly strokes his fingers through my hair, like that's gonna make everything all better, while I wince and do my very fucking best to get used to the feeling of having my ass split in fucking half, squeezing my eyes shut in order to fight back tears that were still threatening to overflow.

Almost tenderly, he tilts my face back so that he can press soft kisses against my lips again, in a way I assume he was trying to make distracting. Sad thing is, my main issue is Mello _in_ me, so I couldn't give a shit about Mello _kissing_ me right now. Any other time, I would've forgotten everything, but not now.

He seems to give up a moment, before my head is tilted even further back, giving him access to my throat, while I try not to let it affect how I'm sat, because movement right now is not on. Not fucking at all.

I actually moan out as he starts sucking and nipping at my pulse point, his tongue darting across the flesh he's got trapped between his lips, making me groan.

This goes on for hell knows how long until I've all but forgotten about the small problem that is his fucking penis up my ass. Yeah, I went there, blah, blah, whatever. Honestly, in comparison, I went no-where, so those girls that say that sort of crap can go screw themselves.

He slowly makes a tentative thrust, almost like he's the one that might be experiencing pain. Although that said, it's gotta be pretty fucking tight for him, right? Well whatever, screw empathy, and sympathy, and all that other bullshit. Still… That small movement didn't feel that awful. I guess my poor fucking body's adjusting to his fucking size.

For the first godforsaken movements he makes, that seem so controlled it's almost scary. I have a feeling he's gonna snap pretty soon… No fucking way can he be that calm… Maybe that's just my take on things. Whatever, it's not like I'm a big know-it-all about shit like this.

He picks up speed pretty evenly, slowly beginning to move quicker. After a short while, he hits something that almost makes me mess everywhere just from that, and my face twists to muffle the moan against the smooth skin of his throat, biting down possibly a little more roughly than was called for, though it only makes him groan out in turn, making a small shudder run through my body.

Fucking kami, that's a beautiful sound.

I do my very fucking best not to start screaming out cusses and all sort of random crap as he begins to constantly pound _right there_, making me grind myself down against him while he keeps up his sensual rhythm, making me gasp out, and moan, and occasionally stifle the odd scream of pleasure against his shoulder.

I've got no fucking clue when this went from pain to pure fucking bliss, but I'm certainly not gonna fucking go and complain about it. I can feel sweat rolling off our bodies, and I'm pretty bloody sure this is the most… 'exercise' I've done in fucking ages.

But fucking hell would I do this all over again. Maybe not the beginning part, with the whole splitting my body into pieces, but definitely this part, with the sweating and the gasping and the moaning and the heat and the wild, animalistic sound of flesh on flesh as he thrusts into me…

And now my brain sounds like a porn novel. Well, my take on one, since I've never gone and fucking read one, but there you go. Blah.

I can feel my muscles slowly beginning to tighten up again, as that all too familiar sense of being about to come, making my body writhe a little more than it had been previously, back arching as Mello's hands slid from my hips down to slowly stroke across heated flesh, my volume increasing ten-fold as he did so, while he punctuated my sounds with many of his own, shorter but hotter noises, making me feel just that much closer.

And fucking hell was it mind-blowing when my orgasm hit me, junk messing over the blond's hand and my own thighs, and I groaned out as he continued thrusting, releasing just after I did, his hands shifting back to my hips, smearing the sticky white substance across my body as he did so, forcing me to ride out his pleasure until he deemed it necessary to stop.

After what seemed like another age had passed – in which I slowly regained the ability to breath normally and I began to come down from my high a little – he slowly pulled out, before shifting the two of us so that the now very warm and vaguely messed up duvet could be pulled around the two of us, his body curving protectively around me as he did so.

"Mm… I love you…" I murmur softly at his almost sleeping form, before suddenly freezing. I said that? Shit… With a soft groan of despair at myself, I settle down, praying he was already off in the happy land of dreams, and slowly drift off myself.

What I missed was his satisfied smirk as I did so.

* * *

**And again, I feel like this isn't as good as it could be. Still, I hope it was good... Reviews pretty please? You should know by now that they make me feel super-awesome and super-motivated to get typing asap! :D Also, this wasn't beta'd, so sorry if it sucks :P Anyway, feel free to throw some ideas at me, though I do have a very, very faint few thoughts for my next chapter, I do love it when people get involved :P Because I do involve a lot of ideas, y'know.. :D **

**Anyway, I hope I didn't make anyone's eyes bleed from the agony of not only my first attempt at a lemon [and in 1st person as well D:] but also the fact that no-one has even attempted to beta this... Oops. Grah, anyway, I'll go away now :D And one more time... Review? *¬***


	10. This Charming Man

**Oh dear. I'm late. But in my defence, yesterday was Easter!! So I had things to nom and stuff to do, right? Will I ever be forgiven? No? Well fine, I'll stop writing D: Nah, I'm kidding :P Even if you did all come to spear me like Shinigami was threatening to, I'd still find a way of updating from the afterlife XD Or whatever else there is.. Since I posess a death note :D Not a working one though. Damnit! Heh xD**

**Disclaimers - I don't own Death Note. Nor do I own Aspirin, or Matt's butt. Or Mello's butt, for that matter. The plot's mine though, and so is [was] the chocolate bunny I just nommed! :D**

**Warnings - Just Matty-boy's language for once D: Oh well.. Also, beware! This might be a filler! OH NOEZ!!! xD**

**Anyway, enjoy, a'ight? :D**

* * *

Ok, so admittedly, the last thing I really expected to notice upon waking up was to notice I was both not in my bed and in some pretty lousy pain. Seriously. I don't even want to move, I swear... Fuck.

'Course, thinking back, I'd be a fucking moron if I thought today was gonna be a wonderful walk in the motherfucking park. I mean, yesterday hurt. Makes sense that today was gonna ache like a bitch. Because believe me, it does. And the last thing I really needed right about now was a cool hand gliding across my cheek, reminding me who, exactly, was to blame.

Fine, it did feel nice, alright, because I feel way too warm at the moment, and the contrast of temperatures felt pretty good. And not like that. Just because my mind usually runs straight to... _that_. Sad thing is, I reckon any good fantasies are gonna be fucking dead until my ass stops complaining every time I move... Because that would just be creepy. And make me a fucked up masochistic... thing. I dunno. I don't really wanna say kid... Doesn't sound appropriate any more.

Still, I can't say I'm fucking furious at him, I suppose... I mean, in some twisted state of mind, I can probably be held to blame. Not entirely, no bloody way, but partially. I mean, it was Mello's chocolate... Speaking of which, what the fuck happened to that sauce he picked up when we were leaving the kitchen?

Cracking an eye open, I can see him already sitting up, practically drinking the shit out of the bottle. Ew. That's just plain weird... Who drinks that crap out of the fucking bottle? It's fucking unbearably sweet. Trust me; I tried it when I was younger... And fucking hell did Light punch me for that.

Apparently it's rude to do that. Well, it's rude to hit someone in the head. Screw him.

Eh. Anyhow. I have vaguely more important things to worry about. For example, I'm awake now, and I'm clueless as to whether or not Mello possesses Aspirin or something. Need. Painkillers. I dunno, just something that gonna let me plant my butt on the couch and play games until my thumb fucking drop off.

I don't believe he actually has the nerve to smirk at me while I do my best to sit up. Not bothering to help me or anything. I might've been wrong... Light was a pain, but nowhere fucking near this level of fucking supreme bastard. 'Course, it's quite alright to put his fucking arms around me and fucking hug me once I've managed to get myself sat up, not that the new position helps at all. Whatever.

There's a pretty long pause while he stares at me, before frowning as I turn away. I can still see him out the corner of my eye... Which is where I realise my poor, unfortunate goggles have been displaced. Well shit. I need those. Not to hide behind or anything... Just because I love my goggles, and I like to have them on me at all times. My fucking brand of safety blanket. Bleh.

Right on cue, it seems, the motherfucking blond holds out my beloved eyewear, looking vaguely disdainful as he does so. I don't think he likes the possibly tacky black plastic with the yellowy-gold lenses much. Whatever. My choice. Screw him. Wait, no, it was the other way round. So I'm mad at him. Yeah, that works.

But seriously, there's 'punishment', and then there's the permanent scarring of a mind that really, really didn't need that. Seriously didn't need that. Not even pretending to need it. Urgh, I'm trying so badly to be mad at him... Hang on, what did I say? What did I say that's making him look so happy with himself?

Oh right. Oh shit. That was it. I said the fucking most retarded and cliché thing in the history of this planet. Post-sex 'I love you'-ing. Crap. Why did I even do that? Say that, in fact? Shit. And now he's gonna think I'm... In love with him or something. Actually, that's a pretty obvious assumption to make.

Thing is, do I love him? I mean, I could've blurted out anything, in the heat of the moment – no pun intended or anything – so it really just... happened to be that?

Nah, that doesn't sound like me... Still, I can't deny it's impossible to stay mad while he's smiling... No, smirking to himself, his arm around my waist, almost possessively. Though that could easily just be my imagination. In fact, it probably is. So whatever.

"Matt?" I pause, looking up towards him, to notice that his smile's completely faded, leaving a serious expression on his face. Almost like he can read my thoughts or some shit. Hah. Like we live in that crappy vampire series or something. You know the one. With the queer-ass sparkly vampires. Yeah. Damn did Light love those books... Douche bag.

I dunno what I really expected to follow that rather short and irrelevant question, but it certainly wasn't what he did in fact say. I mean, who expects that as a question after something like that had just happened? I say just. Last night. Whatever. No difference to me. How long was I sleeping for, anyway? Ah, I'm off on tangents again.

"_Do_ you love me?" The emphasis makes me realise he's unsure. If I'd been being told this, I'd have pissed myself laughing. Mello? Unsure? When hell fucking freezes over, I'd have said, smirking at the obvious insanity of the bastard trying to tell me it was true.

As it happens, I can see the million and one worries and self-doubts running through his eyes, like he's about to cry. Not that I think he ever would. He's the tough guy. Whatever.

But self-doubt? Mello? How the fuck could he have some screwed up fucking inferiority complex or whatever shit? But how in the fuck do I even answer that question... I mean, I'm not even sure. Of course, in the time it takes me to blink, his expression is wiped back to its preset smirk, like he knows what I'm about to say. Fuck knows how, I don't even know what I want to say.

So I do the next best thing. Ok, probably the worst. Anyway.

"Mello, I need time to think."

I feel like shit as his self-assured expression slides from his face, leaving that vulnerable look back in its place again. Like I've betrayed him. I can't fucking bring myself to get up and fucking move though. I just can't. Shit knows why, but I don't feel like it. Or I can't. I doubt I could walk anyway, even if I tried.

"Oh." There's a dangerously awkward pause, before he sighs. A sigh that sounds suspiciously like 'because I love you'. I'm probably wrong though. I'm wrong, right? I have to be wrong... I heard that all wrong. I mean, he wasn't speaking clearly... And my entire thought process has been thrown up into the dust. So, provided he does love me... No, that wouldn't change how I feel.

How do I feel? Shit. Well, I feel like crap for giving him the worst answer in the fucking history of the world. I mean, everyone knows that in the shitty drama programs, as soon as the girl – fine, I'll take that role, I did get uke-ed, anyway – says something along the lines of 'I need time to think', she runs off with another character and ends up doing all sorts of shit.

Well, I hope he doesn't know all that bullshit. Because there's no way in fucking hell I'd ditch him here. Where the fuck would I go? Near's place sounds a lot lamer now I'd got this in comparison... I mean, I've got nothing against the guy, but seriously. Who in their right mind would pick to stay with him instead of a motherfucking sex god?!

Huh. Maybe I should stay with Near instead... Nah, who am I kidding... I'd be back here on my knees and begging for a place to stay in hours. I dunno... I just don't feel like I really wanna leave. Even after... Well, yeah. Problem is, what happens if I upset him or some shit again? I mean, not for nothing, but as a youngster – sort of, we're speaking technically here – I'm sort of... put off a little by that. Not that it was full out shit, but... I mean... Well.

This is Mello. Hot. Dancer. Amazing. Sexy. I could go on. But... I'm just little Matty, aren't I now? And I'm almost fucking certain there are at least a couple of people I'd have to compare to there... Ah bullshit, I have to dance today. Maybe Mello'll let me off... I mean, he should understand why, for fucks sake. It's his fucking fault.

Maybe he'll leave off all the pervy shit until I can walk properly. Though, I'm only making assumptions with the whole walking incapabilities thing, since I haven't actually tried. Don't wanna, either. Whatever, I'm happy here... Though Mello's gone fucking frozen. Shit I feel awful...

I mean, it's my fault. Duh, how could it fucking not be my fault? I mean, I said... And... I don't know. Something. But I can't fucking lie about something like that when I'm not fucking sure... Fuck. I'm such a fuckup... Eh, Mello's moving, what..?

Oh right. He has to work. To get money to feed himself and the ungrateful little shit he's still got his arm around. Damn... Why did I say that? Is it true? I don't fucking know, and that's the motherfucking problem.

His bottle of probably half-gone syrup is completely forgotten in his hands as he slowly removes his arm from around me, and I find myself catching hold of his... No, my shirt to pull him back. Why's he wearing my shirt anyway? It looks sort of baggy on him.. Weird. Whatever. I should probably focus a little more on what exactly my body's doing. Without permission, I might add.

Anyway.

He looks vaguely suprised as my hands find the front of his shirt and cling onto it, effectively pulling him back down onto the bed – not in a 'I'd like you to screw me again' way, mind you – even though I have no fucking clue what I'm gonna do part that. Maybe it'll come to me. Whatever.

It sort of does... In a way. Sort of. Well. I kissed him. I dunno why, I just did, alright? Yeah. Given, I don't usually initiate anything. Anything at all. He's the one with the fetish for kissing me before I go to school, or whatever.

Feels good though... I like it. Yeah, I started it, but still... His lips are fucking soft for a guy who molested me last night... Well that implies I wasn't exactly... Or... I dunno. Whatever. Don't give a shit. There's a moment of soft kissing, before he pulls away and stands up, looking vaguely regretful.

"Gotta get ready for work and shit, Fiery," he says softly, ruffling up my hair before leaving the room, and also leaving me sitting on the bed with a faint blush on my face – I can see it in the mirror nailed to the back of his door, despite the cracks in it – while I yearn to run after him and try and make him stay.

Who the fuck am I kidding? Of course I fucking love him. But I can't tell him now until later... Shit. I hope I didn't screw up his day with all my bullshitting... Nah, that's dumb, there's no way in fucking hell I could've affected Mello that badly. It's... Well, it's Mello. He's probably already forgotten... No, I don't like that thought.

I guess I'll just fight with myself until he gets back then. You know, the boring battle of, do I love him? Does he love me? ...Does he love me? Shit, now I'm gonna be freaking out all day. Fuck. Hey... When did I care anyway? I mean, my ass feels like someone's been fucking kicking it for three days, and I'm still worried about all this bullshit. Wow.

Speaking of which, I need to go find out where Mello keeps his pain medicines and whatnot. Because I fucking need some right about now. Then I'll probably play Zelda, drink Red Bull, and try to work out if it's a definite. About me being in love or whatever shit. Damn.

Since when did Matt Jeevas fall in love, anyway? It's complete shit, really, and yet... I think it's happening anyhow. Gah. If only the bastards that call me unfeeling could see me now. Douche bags would have a motherfucking heart attack. Oh well. Serves them fucking right. And again I'm off imagining fuck all.

Whatever. I was planning something... Oh yeah, gotta go take fucking drugs to make my ass feel like it's not had a fucking candle shoved up it. A lit candle. One of those ones that refuses to go out unless you heap water on it. Yeah. That's what she said. Heh. Well, it probably isn't actually, but whatever.

It takes me a while to get to the kitchen, because my legs feel sort of... Noodly. Yeah. Y'know, like a noodle? Actually, my whole body feels that way. Too loose. And that doesn't sound quite right. Urgh, right, one kitchen. Now where in the fuck would he keep medicine...?

After a dangerous fifteen minutes of searching and then double checking the whole room, I finally find what I'm looking for. Slight problem. He puts his shit in a box. A box with a lock. A lock that's... Locked. Ahh shit.

Well this is all I need... Hey, I could always try to pick the lock... That should work. In theory. Right, now what in the hell can I use to pick a fucking lock... Ahh fuck this. I'll just go play on my fucking DS. It's easier to lie down if I'm doing that anyhow.

Urgh, and of course it takes me fucking forever to just locate the fucking thing, by which point I'm in no mood to play any games. I know; unnatural shit right there. Well fuck, what can I do? Read? ...That doesn't sound too horrible, actually. But fuck all if I've got any goddamn books. Nope. Mello might... But I really, really can't be assed to go find them. Shit.

Maybe I'll fucking go to sleep... Bleh. Not much else I can do, after all... I hate sleeping for no reason. Maybe it'll make the pain piss off. That'd be quite nice. Urgh, fucking hell.

I hate locks.

* * *

**My oh my... Well, that was a filler, wasn't it? Do feel free to flame the hell out of me... Any form of review makes me happy :D Oh yeah, here's for a shout out to my [few] reviewers last chapter :D**

**ShinigamiMailJeevas [of course :D]  
jhoker [a new person reviewing, awesome :D]  
PrincessPika [w00t, you reviewed quite a lot :D]**

**Yeah. Three... Hands up who reckons I can beat that? Awwhh, come on, just review please? I'm on my knees! Heh xD please? Right, I'm done with my hopeless begging, and I hope I didn't kill anyone with my last chapter, or this one for that matter xD Bye for now :D**


	11. The Only Exception

**Wow... This week's been murder... Maybe that's just me. I'm gonna blame the LU... Anyway. I haz teh lollipopz!! YUSH! :D Anyway, this chapter originally seemed a little jumpy, but it seemed a tiny bit better when I re-read it... Ehh, I'm just odd like that xD Anyway, voila! New chapter!**

**Disclaimer - I don't own pain medication [my parents do] and I don't own Death Note either. W00t?**

**Warnings - Angry Matt. Yeah. And swearing. :D**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

I had to wait for fucking _hours_.

Literally. I mean, I was sat on my own, not feeling up to doing anything in particular for damned ages. He's too cruel to give me any freaking spare keys, or leave out any medicine, even though I swear to all things Zelda and Link, he must've bloody known that I was gonna be fucking incapable of doing fuck-all today.

Damnit, my ass hurts like fucking hell. I'm gonna murder a bitch, I swear. Nobody fucks up Matt Jeevas's ability to play video games and gets away with it. Thing is... How to get back at him. As much as I'd love to burn his chocolate into a charred mess outside, somehow I think that's gonna get me in a tiny bit more trouble than just taking one damn bite out of one damn bar.

He's such a fucking drama queen. I mean, punishments are meant to reflect crimes and all that crap, so he went fucking miles overboard there. And won't even let me have meds or anything. Fuck it all.

So maybe it wasn't his intention to deprive me of what I needed to continue my peaceful and loving gaming, but honestly... Who locks up their fucking _legal_ drugs? I mean, in a family with little kids, sure, I can understand it, no-one wants some child dying of Calpol overdose, but still. This is Mello. There is no family, and there are definitely no little kids.

I hope not anyway... Otherwise I'm gonna have some crazy-ass bitch chasing my sorry – sore – butt out the apartment brandishing a wooden spoon. Fucking female stereotypes. They can take their fucking wooden spoons and... You know what? I don't think you really need to know that.

Five minutes after sitting myself down to wait for the motherfucking blond, I was already itching to do something. Fucking inability to sit still. I honestly considered drinking out the stocks of alcohol and Red Bull, and killing off some of his chocolate stash too, but I stopped myself. Why?

Because drunken-Matt nomming on angry-Mello's chocolate is gonna result in something fucking awful. Because... Well, I'd be drunk. I don't do drunk. Well, I don't think I do drunk, anyway. To be honest, I've never tried the shit. Smells lousy anyhow. I don't really want to, even if it would dull the pain.

But fucking hell does he take a long time. I was horribly distracted, nothing could fucking keep me interested long enough to forget about what was going on, what had happened, and all the fucking _questions_...

...Well, games aren't fucking working out. Maybe thinking will. Fucking hell I hate that. The last thing I need right now is having my brain ticking over manically. Do I love him? I don't know if he fucking loves me... I mean, I'm nothing special. And he's Mello. Mello's special.

Wait, Mello's special? Since fucking when? When the hell did that appear in my goddamn head? Probably a while ago, actually... I mean, I knew I sort of liked him... But love..? How is that even possible?

I mean, I doubt I've ever really loved anyone. Not my parents – they weren't around long enough, fucktards – definitely not Light, there's no way in fucking hell I'd ever love Near... But Mello? I guess it's possible... In some weird, twisted way.

I mean, I've always said he was fucking amazing and all that shit, but I didn't really consider it like that... What do I love? Gaming, for sure, Red Bull... Nothing animate and capable of returning affections, anyway... Unless... Well, it'd definitely be fucking different if Mello... I... I don't fucking know.

You'd think I'd be able to get this properly sorted, wouldn't you... No, it's too complex for me. I know, dork-kid just admitted to being outdone by a problem. But this is a fucking massive crisis, in my head at any rate... How can people say three fucking words so easily, when I can hardly even think them? It pisses me off. Of course. Defence mechanisms to fight back against confusion. Anger beats all. Urgh.

I think my head's gonna fucking explode...

***

I must've fallen asleep, because the next thing I really knew about was a soft hand stroking my cheek, and a calm voice murmuring about something or other to me.

Mello?

Well who the fuck else would it be? It's completely pointless to try and ignore him now I'm back in the land of the living, because to be quite frank, he's pretty distracting. See, he must've ditched his usual leather vest before coming to wake me up.

Not that I'm complaining or anything, but for fucks sake... Anyway.

With a possibly over-exaggerated groan, I stretch my arms out over my head, and then make to sit up. And fail. Because Mello was kind enough to place a gloved hand on my chest and press me back down, a slightly concerned smile on his face. And I went and fucking growled.

I guess it's probably because in my opinion, he abandoned me without any meds all day, and now just expects me to be all 'oh alright then', and admit I'm almost certainly in love with him.

Fuck that.

"Do you need anything? You don't have to..." He actually trailed off after looking again at the expression on my face. Damn I must've looked angry... Oh well. He can fucking deal with it now, because I _am_ fucking furious. I mean honestly... Abandonment – not really, but whatever – then no pain medication all day – again, maybe not his fault entirely – and rendering me incapable of gaming for hours. Now, the latter I am going to blame entirely on him.

"I've needed some fucking pain killers all fucking day, that's what I've fucking needed! You just fucking went and left, and I'm fucking in pain and you didn't fucking do _anything_ before you left and now you're fucking trying to act like a goddamn saint and make up for it, well _fuck you_!"

Possibly the most I've said to him in one standing. Sitting. Whatever. And I actually watched his expression change while I yelled. Yeah, I know, Matt lost his cool, blah blah. Well for fucks sake, it's not even my fucking fault he did all that, unless you wanna be ridiculously finicky. Fucking hell.

"Well that's your own fucking fault, isn't it?!" Ok, _he's_ gonna be finicky. "I _had_ to go, and now I fucking wanna help out, and you're just having a motherfucking go at me, aren't you?! I'm letting you stay here for no real reason at all, and you still have the fucking audacity to start yelling at me like that?!"

"_You're not my fucking mother, shut the fuck up and leave me alone, damnit_!" Ok. Maybe it wasn't necessary to yell that, but in all honesty? The expression on his face made me want to take it back. But no. My mouth wouldn't fucking stop.

"You don't even _know_ me, you didn't have to let me stay here, you didn't have to be _nice_, and you didn't have to make me fucking _fall in love with you_!"

It actually took a full minute of silence before I realised what I'd just said. For the second time, really. Though I don't wanna count the first time. Because I mean... People say weird stuff at times like that, right? And I could've gotten away with just saying my hormones were confusing me, but now I've gone and shouted that, right at his face.

Ok, so I can't get as much volume as I'd like behind my words, because fuck knows it's difficult to yell while you're being forced down onto your back. I managed though. Hell fucking yeah I managed. He looks absolutely shocked, and then slowly moves his hand from my chest, pulling me up rather abruptly to crush me into a fucking dangerously tight hug.

Maybe glomp might be a better word. Whatever.

But again, no real response. So according to Matt-being-a-fucking-picky-bastard rules, that means he doesn't love me, I've made an idiot of myself, and now I've got to fucking leg it.

Or maybe I should be more reasonable and consider the idea that maybe – just maybe – he's not one to throw words about like I do when I get worked up. Ok, so I could be angrier, I guess, but this is one of my more irate states.

But god-fucking-damn it, I'm not just gonna let him fucking get off lightly, I mean, no gaming. One day. How much more do I need to emphasise that?!

There's already been far too much of a pause to be comfortable, but there you go... Fucking hell he feels warm. Almost cuddly, even if his body does look he's spent tons of time working out... I mean, he's not like one of those freaky body builders... My fucking kami, I've been on this rant already. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

Anyway. He's goddamn fucking amazing. Warm. Huggable. _Lovable_.

Yeah, I'm just being an idiot if I try and keep telling myself I don't love him... but... He still left me. In pain. On my own. Without painkillers. Of any sort. Urgh. Speaking of which... Fuck is this position like murder. Or someone sticking a knife up my butt. I dunno. I'm not sure either have technically happened to me before.

"You love me..." I can't believe he's trying out those words, instead of telling me the same back. Makes me feel... I dunno. Insecure. Unsteady, even though he's still holding tightly onto me. "Let me go get you some painkillers..." he suddenly murmurs, and almost floats out of the room, leaving me to topple backwards and lie down again.

My fucking god this is too fucking much for me. Mello's... tiring. Absolutely fucking exhausting for me.

At least he's being nice though.

* * *

**I hope this didn't fail or anything :D Heh xD So, a small rant - down with the n00bs that've all been reporting ShinigamiMailJeevas. Yeah.. If you wanna find out more and all that, mail me. Yeah... **

**Anyway, reviews are welcome, and any ideas are welcome too :D And now, I'll be quiet and let you contine your night/evening/morning/whatever :D**


	12. Mellow

**Ok.. I'll admit, this was originally gonna be longer, but... That would've ended up too long. So instead, you're getting this update now, another very soon, and then chapter 14's still gonna be up next Sunday, unless something goes horrifically wrong and... Stuff. Because I need my Mello to write it, so progress on that might be stunted... Anyway. Onwards!**

**Disclaimers - I don't own Matt. Or Mello. Or any of the mentioned chocolate bars. Or Matt's school. Or curse words. Or Death Note. Or any of the characters in Death Note. Or... I'll shut up about that now XD**

**Warnings - BEWARE! There is swearing. Well no duh, really? In this fic? Nooo, Matt's the most clean-mouthed person ever... Also, this hasn't been beta-ed. Just checked over by me. So... Yeah.**

**Anyway enjoy!**

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I gotta say... Having Mello act like he's gone insane and developed maternal instincts to care for me is weird. Well, not entirely maternal, of course, he can't resist throwing in the odd inappropriate comment, but still. He's putting in some effort... Fuck knows why. To be honest, he really doesn't need to, not at all.

Why I think that I don't know, but... whatever. I mean, it's nice, y'know, having him worry himself about my general wellbeing, though I can't help but feel the gestures are slightly tainted, since it's his own fault my wellbeing needs worrying about, and he's only bothered since I had a go at him. Jerk.

But at any rate, I'm not gonna say what he's currently doing for me is completely shitted up, because it isn't, and I'm happy he's taking so much time paying attention and generally acting like I've become the centre of the universe.

Actually, scrap that. To be frank, I hate being the centre of attention, so I almost live for the moment's he stops forcing me to stay put on his bed, instead leaving me to my own devices for a short while, and goes to molest a bar of chocolate.

Now this probably makes me weird, but... It still gets me. Him. With his chocolate. Licking it like that... With that fucking devil-tongue, acting like he's not the fucking sexiest thing since history began. Because believe me, he is.

Still, the end of the weekend comes as a bit of a shock to me, because I soon realise that no matter what niceties he might be telling me, I still have to drag my sorry ass to school. Well shit. I mean, I've got a limp from hell, and now I have to go hang out with Near.

Fucking bastard... I'll be shocked if he doesn't notice me walking funny, or acting a little off (I'm still videogame deprived, despite the fact I can, in fact, sit without excruciating agony now) or anything else. I mean, there's perceptive, and then there's fucking mental...

I probably spend a little too much time insulting the kid, I mean, as people go, he's not too bad, but still. Damn I'm bipolar... Shit. I could at least attempt to not be a total jackass all the time... Fucking hell.

***

Monday. Meaning, the day of ultimate judgement. I wouldn't say my limp has gotten any worse or better since yesterday, but I did minimal walking yesterday... What the fuck is with that? It's not like I've suddenly become disabled... And as much as I appreciate Mello's caring side, I sort of wish he'd go back to being an asshole. I like him better that way.

And I apparently have some fucked up fetish for rough treatment... Well let's face it, I should've noticed that ages ago.

The only thing that could possibly make today worse would be if Near started up a game of motherfucking twenty questions and started drilling me to try and find out why I had a limp. I kinda hope he just makes his own assumptions and keeps them to himself.

I don't wanna have to put up with his little-genius-boy shit today. Actually, not today, or tomorrow, or any time this week. What bullshit.

Though naturally, my brain's ticking over every possible bad scenario as I get ready for school, slinging everything I might need into a rucksack and pulling that over my shoulder, briefly wondering if I should decorate it with Tipex a little, before realising I couldn't give a shit, and completely brushing off Mello's call of goodbye with a short nod.

Naturally, he catches my arm anyway, spinning me and pressing a light, chaste kiss to my lips before gently pushing be towards the door, rambling about not being late and all that shit.

Unexpected, I know. The walk to school was... Long. And I almost got lost. Twice. That's what I get for living in a new neighbourhood, I suppose. Bloody fucking wonderful.

Somehow though, I still manage to arrive before the first bell goes, barely managing to skid into my form room before that dreaded sound attempts to murder my ear drums, and I quickly make my way to my desk, ignoring the confused glances of people that notice my limp. I guess I'll have to lie and tell them some shit about falling down a set of stairs... Or twisted my ankle, or something.

I mean, 'yeah, I got kicked out, so my dance teacher took me in and then pretty much raped me, only not 'cause I wouldn't say I was all that opposed to it' is just about the quickest way to get yourself landed in a loony bin. And frankly, I'd rather relive my rather fucked up sort-of loss of innocence a hundred times over than have to go and get the shit counselled out of me.

I mean, telling the truth has so many things wrong with it... Number one: Matt Jeevas taking dance lessons. That puts me on the fast track to having the living crap kicked out of me every break time. Number two: I'm living with another man. Hello 'fag' comments. Homophobic fucktards. And of course, wonderful number three: I got done by my dance teacher who I happen to live with.

Now, tell me that if I were to be honest, I wouldn't be in so much shit I wouldn't be able to move because of it. Yeah. That's what I thought.

So, truth is definitely out, no way in hell am I gonna be giving anyone in this damn school the actual story. Well, now I've just got to survive school.

And obviously, this is easier said than done. I mean, the first two girls – ditzy bitches, too – didn't believe that a hardcore gamer such as me would be capable of spraining my ankle. Possibly because they believe that gamers and the outdoors don't mix. To be honest, I'd say that was a perfect reason for me actually having a fucked up ankle. I went outside for the first time in years – haha, I walk to school every day, the fucktards – and tripped. How believable is that? Very, thanks.

But still, by break, I'm beginning to wish that Mello had let me take the day off. Everyone's so fucking shocked I'm not in mint condition, as per usual, and fucking hell have rumours begun to fly.

Especially since some girl called... Misa? Yeah, Misa. I haven't even seen her around before... Anyway, she told everyone that I don't live with Light anymore. Kami only knows how the fuck she found that out. I mean... shit. I guess Light has fucked up, creepy connections just about everywhere. Damn, does he keep motherfucking tabs on me? Shit, shit, _shit_...

No, I'm just overreacting... Of course I'm just overreacting. I mean... One girl with half a clue about what's going on in my life doesn't mean he's fucking spying on me. Urgh, freaky thought. I think I actually just _shuddered_... Weird.

Anyway, I was hopeful that Near wouldn't be in our usual spot... A hope that was very, very short-lived, I might add. No, he was there. With that evil, foreboding expression of innocent questioning on his face. I hate that expression so, so much right now. There's nothing wrong with asking questions, don't get me wrong... But honestly. Not right now. Not Near. C'mon!

And sure enough, as soon as I sit down, I'm attacked. Not literally, but still.

"I couldn't help but notice your rather prominent and painful-looking limp, Matt... What exactly is the matter?"

Kay, so maybe I could've been less defensive, and more calm, maybe a little less of a jerk... But why does he always have to ask me bloody questions...?

"There's nothing the matter, Near! I just sprained my fucking ankle, is all!" All he does is stare at me with those cold, calculating eyes for several seconds before he bothers to reply.

"But your ankle doesn't seem to be swollen or anything... I don't believe that's the real problem." Ok, I can't argue with his logic, but for fucks sake, why can't he know when to drop things? Instead of answering, I turn my back and begin murdering my food, not really caring that I was gonna be fucking starving by lunch, let alone by the time I get home. I just need an excuse not to reply.

Course, I wouldn't expect him to give it up or anything, but to be honest... When you get the same fucking answer ten times in a row, surely that's when you just give it up for lost? Surely...? Well fuck. I really, really wish he'd understand sometimes... I wanna be left alone, and he's not helping in the slightest... If anything, my limp's getting worse out of sheer irritation towards the albino.

I'm not ever entirely sure that's possible, but whatever. My point is, he's annoying as hell sometimes.

But damn... Things only get worse as the day goes on, I swear. I mean, by lunch, that Misa girl's managed to get word round to just about everyone that I not only got kicked out of Light's house, but also ran off with some other guy. Or girl, I don't remember what she said, mostly because I couldn't give a shit.

Although, how she knows anything at all astounds me. She's good with gossip apparently, but from what I can gather, that's all she can keep up with. Meaning, she's a complete moron that's only here because she's got the cash for it. Something like that. Fucking hell I hate people like that.

By the time I get to go home, about a million and one things have gone wrong. I've gone from non-existent, to centre of attention. Not fucking good. But... Well, I was almost glad to see Mello's badass car waiting outside the school.

Almost, because to be frank... Rumours. And now Mello. Holy fucking shit... But I guess I've gotta stick by my usual.. thing. Which is basically I couldn't give a fuck about rumours. Right. Raising a hand to flip off the group of assholes that yell 'fag' at me, I open the door and swing into the passenger seat.

It's almost scary how fast Mello's car can do nought to sixty... I think I accidentally left my fucking stomach outside the school. I mean... Fucking hell. There's no real need to go that fast...

Looking over at him, I realise something. Yeah. He doesn't look too pleased. What, did he hear the freaking retarded comments the other bastards were making and get mad or something? That's my problem.. Not his. But still. I guess it's not too horrible if he's bothered about me... Though he doesn't need to get angry.

The drive passes in complete silence, it's almost freaky, to be honest. Still, at least he's not gonna grill me with a gazillion fucking questions. Though... The stony expression on his face is still a little scary. That said, I'm not gonna say it doesn't look good on him. Fuck, anything looks good on him...

Oh shit, bad mind! Get the fuck off that subject! Ahh shit...

Awkward fucking... I hate my own mind sometimes. Fucking... Images of fucking... No, damn it! Oh bloody hell... I adjust my position pretty fast so that he doesn't notice. Not that he's paying attention to me... Nah, he's busy glaring furiously at the road.

Talk about fucking awkward... I wonder why he actually came to pick me up, though... Weird.

Eventually, the car stops, and I leap out, bag in hand, quickly followed by a still raging Mello, and – still silently mind you – we make our way up to his apartment.

It's not until we actually get inside and there's a fresh bar of chocolate in his hand that he says anything. Well... By 'says anything', I mean slams me into a chair, and leans right over me so that there's no way in hell I could move. Friendly shit.

"What the fuck was Misa Amane doing at your school?!" Amane.. Now that rings a bell. Oh right, that model girl. Wait, she came and fucking hung out at my school? And no-one flipped out? What the fuck is that all about? Moreover, how does Mello know her, and why the fuck is he so mad?

Naturally, Mello doesn't answer all these questions, but still replies loudly, and with violent gestures. Hey, he's not a mind reader.

"What she was doing at your school I don't really care or give a shit about right now, because I'll find out, but for fucks sake Matt, what has she said?"

Pause.

"Um... She told everyone that... Light had kicked me out... And that I'm living... Elsewhere now." Blatant lie, I mean, she actually said I was living with a random guy. I think. But honestly... Mello's coming very close to punching me in the face instead of punching the back of the chair, so I don't really wanna upset him anymore.

"She told... How... Oh fucking hell..." is all he hisses before he backs away from me and flops down onto the couch, looking vaguely exhausted. He's already managed to munch through the chocolate he was holding, so I offer the only thing I can think of.

"Should I get you some more..?" Naturally punctuated with a vague nod of the head in the direction of the hand that's currently housing the empty wrapper, I wait quietly for his reply.

He certainly takes his time, making a show of moving his head so he can see me, and glaring for a few seconds before heaving a sigh and waving a hand about dismissively. "If you want."

So much for his wonderful, caring attitude. Sighing, I make my way off to find him his beloved chocolate bars, picking up three – hey, he doesn't look like he wants to move all that much – and making my way back to him, sitting beside him in a way that's almost actually timid. Wow my head's fucked up.

He looks around, smiling gently when he sees my rather odd set of chocolate. Divine, Lindt and some weird Milka bar. Hey, I don't really care... Provided it's chocolate, does it really matter? He should really organise the shit better.

"I love you," he mumbled quietly as he takes the chocolate, leaving me... Stunned. Yeah, that about fits it.

Mello just said 'I love you'? The world is definitely going mental.

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**Not too bad, I hope? I'll have the next part up as quickly as I can, and I promise more plot starts jumping around soon! I swear! On my life! And there's gonna be fluff next chapter... So look out! Heh :D Anyway... Reviews maybe, for my determination to get this out? Heh, even if you don't review.. You have to go and check out some of my amazing friends, ShinigamiMailJeevas, LawlietKeehl, and Miharu is Haruka's Love Child. Go! Go now! RUN! BE FREE!!!!**

Matt: *Grabs Dia and drags her away from the computer* Quick! Fetch help!  
Dia: BEE FREEEEEEEEEE  
Matt *sigh* *gags Dia* Right... Anyway.. *finds DS and wanders off*


	13. Still Standing

**Ok, this was originally gonna be part of the last chapter, which is why there's a rather unexpected update today! Amazing, right? Amazingly huge thanks to all my reviewers so far, and you should all say thank you to Shinigami, since I promised her two updates this week. I'm pretty happy with this chapter, so yeah :3 Enjoy and stuff :D**

**Disclaimer - I don't own the days of the week or Death Note.**

**Warnings - OMGMATTLEAVES? Nope. He doesn't. Beware of... Swearing!!! OH NOEZ!! :) **

**Have fun~!**

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It's actually kinda funny, the look on his face as he realised what he just said, halfway through unwrapping one of the bars of chocolate. Don't ask which, I don't pay attention to shit like that. Especially not right now. I mean... Mello said... Dear fucking Zelda, the world is officially screwed up.

There's a pretty awkward pause, during which he merely stares at me in fear (hey, haven't I said I love him already? Bastard...) until I finally manage a soft – yeah, I know, _soft_ – smile, slowly moving to curl up against him. In that cute, baby-animal-like way I have. Apparently.

This appears to take him by suprise, because it's another few seconds before he finally reacts, slinking his arm around my shoulders, the other holding his beloved chocolate to his mouth to snap a chunk off.

Inappropriate as this may be... It looks fucking sexy. Snap, suck, smirk. Rinse and repeat. Yeah, whatever, I'm talking sort of funny. So bite me. But still... He's gorgeous. Like always. Unlike me. Fuck... I'm too pessimistic I suppose, but whatever. I've got more important things to worry about. Like the very much still-there problem in my pants, not being helped at all by the appearance of the sexy, chocolate-nomming god of all things leather.

Well, it is being helped, but not in a helpful way. If that makes sense. Yeah.

But aside from all that shit... He's nice. Cuddly. Maybe that's the entirely wrong word, but I still think it's true, before he's nice – _warm_ – to curl up against. And he's not yelling at me for having my feet, shoes and all, on the couch, which is amazing. Light used to get seriously pissy about that... Fuck knows why, the sofa wasn't even particularly nice.

Honestly though... I'd be happy to stay like this. Sadly, the phone isn't within arm's reach, so Mello has to get up to dial for takeaway pizza. Epic fail right there. Oh well... I wonder if he's actually gonna eat pizza... I honestly can't image him putting anything in his mouth other than chocolate.

Ok, that's a complete lie, but we won't go into that, since... Well, again. Trouser issues. Huh, he's too fucking sexy for his own damn good.

The mood's slightly gone by the time he gets back, so I'm not too concerned about bothering him with one or two questions. No, I'm not a fucking hypocrite, you see, I know when to let things drop. I'm not gonna keep on at him if he doesn't answer me properly, so screw anyone that dares try and tell me that I am.

"You love me?" All I get for a little while is a scowl. Way to kill an already-dead mood, Matt! Although, I do eventually get a reply. After he coughs and glances around a little. It's almost cute, actually... How hesitant he is.

"I... Um... Well, no... I mean, I was talking to my chocolate," is pretty much all he comes up with, leaving me to smirk at him. Just a little... I mean seriously, he is pretty sweet when he's acting like that. Even if he is still wearing leather. Whatever.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Mello..." Ok, I happen to know perfectly well that mocking him is never smart. Because this is Mello. Not mocking him is basic survival instinct. Not for me though, apparently.

"What did you just...!"

Next thing I knew, I was rather violently pinned down and being tickled mercilessly. By Mello. Fucking hell, he can in fact assault me in non-sexual ways. Well shit... I never knew I was ticklish.

And when I point out I'm ticklish... What I mean is that I scream like a girl and squirm about manically while he laughs as me.

It's actually quite fun, once I get over the whole 'Mello happens to be straddling me and touching me up' thing. Because that's technically what he's doing... Just in a less-direct-than-usual way. Heh.

It's actually pretty distracting, and by the time the doorbell rings, I'm out of breath, probably bright red, and definitely hard. And I know he must've noticed, even if he hasn't commented on it.

He gets up to get the door, and I roll over, stretching out to try and stop the slightly manic shudders that tickling apparently induces. And he turns and slaps my ass. Douche bag... Surely he knows it's still sore...

He seems to remember when I wince, and shoots me an apologetic smile before running to collect the pizza. Yeah, just the one, large, and smells pretty nice too. Awesome. Yeah, I'm a pig, I'll eat anything that smells edible.

So, we're happily back on his sofa, peacefully eating our junk - I know, Mello doesn't exist solely on chocolate, fucking huge shock - and occasionally me obediently eating out of his hand.

Sounds strange, but he'd hold out chunks of pizza to me, and I just sort of... Ate them. I guess it might've looked a little strange to some randomer... But whatever. I don't care. I have the best... Boyfriend? Roommate? I dunno... But either way, he's the fucking best.

Once we're finally done with the pizza – yes, I let myself get distracted and involved in what was possible a vaguely hot make-out session – he went back to his chocolate. And naturally, I was just waiting to be completely forgotten. So I was nicely suprised to find the slightly-chewed end of a bar of chocolate close to my mouth. An open invitation to snap some off in Mello's usual way.

Mello's usual way, which I fail horribly at. I did try, but I ended up snapping off way too much, and having an awkwardly long block of the stuff sticking out of my mouth. I guess it should've been pretty retarded looking, but Mello seemed to like it... Probably because of the chocolate involved rather than the fact it was me. Whatever.

Rather nicely – heh, whatever – he leans forwards to snap a little of the end, before continuing this until he reaches my mouth, Lady-and-the-Tramp style. It's actually sort of sweet (no pun intended) but after a little while, it sort of stops being all innocent, and ends up with his tongue searching my mouth as I'm forced back against the couch, my hands clutching at the back of his shirt, for whatever reason there may have been.

Admittedly, it's pretty fucking difficult to think while his hands are running across my body in a way that actually makes me shudder, eyes squeezed shut while Mello continues to calmly... No, that's the wrong word... Thoroughly molest my mouth.

Yup... Pretty interesting evening in all. I mean, there were several more moments such as... the afore mentioned one, until he decided that kissing a half-unconscious me wasn't as fun, and ordering me to bed. His bed. Our bed. Whatever, he only had one. Fuck that.

***

It sucks to wake up to Mello flicking your face. But... I suppose it happens. Now. To me. And only me. No, I'm not fucking possessive. I'm just stating that I'm probably the only person on this motherfucking planet that Mello has woken up in this way. Though, I don't know who else he's woken up... You know what? This is a weird thought process. I'm gonna go eat breakfast... And shit. Yeah.

No cereal. No fucking cereal. Typical. So I'm stuck with toast. I hate having toast in the morning, it scratches my throat and makes me gag. Fucking hell... He's trying to kill me. Not on purpose, but he's still trying. Whatever.

It takes me about five minutes to get ready once I'm done forcing toast – painfully – down my throat, since all I have to do is... well, throw on my uniform, grab books, shove them in my rucksack and attempt, meaning fail, to leave the house without having a kiss kidnapped by Mello. Which lasts a little longer than usual, but still.

He does offer to drive me to school though... Which naturally I can't possibly turn down. Because I still have a fucking limp. Lame. As. Shit. Following him to his car, I'm glad I agreed, because even though it's not winter or anything, England has a habit of being so motherfucking _cold_... I swear, I hate the weather.

Still, it only takes five... Maybe ten minutes to get to school, where I have to quickly leap out to avoid any more kissing. Not because I don't want to, but because it's very possible that some bastard would notice and then I'd never hear the end of it... And fucking hell, Near annoys me enough for about twenty people, so I could really do without any other botherations in my life. Because it's possible I'd murder them. Possibly, because I probably wouldn't I'm just too fucking nice.

Naturally, nothing can stay good for me though. And as soon as the first bell goes, basically telling everyone to get the fuck to their form rooms, the Deputy Head catches me, quickly pulling me to the side while Near shoots me a look between apology and knowing. What the hell's with that..?

I find out pretty soon, since she's gabbling on about someone that I have to see, and how there's nothing to worry about, I'm not in trouble, but some concerns voiced by a fellow student (Near, I'd bet my Game Boy) and so I needed to go some place and talk something or other through with some 'professional' that had contacted the school to actually ask to speak to me, and all sorts of other shit. Now, what the fucking hell is with that?

Though, I don't actually bother to question her, instead following the fucking short-ass woman to the room labelled 'Counselling'. Oh fuck no...

Apparently fuck yes. Because I'm pushed inside after a quick knock, and she quickly leaves, mumbling something about paperwork. I never did like her... Anyway. I'm thinking a little more about the strange man sitting hunched right over in the chair that's up against the left wall. Left to me, whatever. So naturally, I head to the chair opposite to his, taking in his appearance as I do so.

Longish, dark, messy hair, sticking up haphazardly and looking like it's never seen a brush before. Ever. His eyes are sort of spooky... Like Near's, actually, but with dark smudges beneath them that the albino lacks, his body entirely folded up onto the chair, knees held to his chest as he nibbles absently on his thumb nail.

"Matt Jeevas. I am L. Near voiced concerns about you that I am here to speak with you about." Huh. Pretty straight to the point... I'll either not mind him, or hate him like I hate Near... Possibly. He doesn't seem too bad.

"How do you know Near?" Yeah, I ask fucking badass questions. It's fair enough though... Near isn't one of those people that goes crying about their friends on anonymous phone lines. Ergo... He has to know him personally.

"I am Nate's brother," he replies blankly, staring at me in an actually pretty creepy, blank way. Give me Mello all over my ass any day... His eyes are freakishly empty. Weird guy.

"Nate..? Oh, Near, right, yeah. So um... What do you want?" I guess I'm rude, but at least I'm trying to get to the point. Because the sooner I do that, the sooner I can get the fuck out of there, and to somewhere that people aren't gonna stare at me like I'm some sort of object that needs considering. Though maybe that's how counselling works... I get 'considered'. I hope not. That'd just be plain fucking creepy.

"He has concerns that you're being abused at home, wherever your current home may be. I believe you used to live with Light Yagami, but moved out?" Ok, holy fuck. Stalker much... although it is all shit that Near would know. Although most of it's all just speculation on his part... Since when did Near fucking _speculate_? Fuck all if I know.

"Um. No. He's wrong. Well, I don't live with Light anymore, but I'm not being abused or anything..." I suppose I don't sound very convincing, despite the fact it's the truth. Well, I wasn't abused. Mello... and... My ass hurts. But that doesn't mean it was abuse... Even if he is a total douche like that.

"I disagree."

"How can you? You weren't there. Hell, you don't even fucking know me!" And there I go, swearing again. So don't fucking blame me for storming the fuck out of there and leaving school. I'm ditching quite a lot recently... Oh well. I mean, it's not like I learn anything at school, anyway.. I mean, who the hell learns shit in a place of learning? No-one. Because the teachers are social rejects from the forties. Yeah. I went there, bitches.

***

It takes me fucking ages to get home... Back to Mello's place, I mean, because I keep forgetting which way to go and try to walk back to Light's place. So by the time I actually get back, it's about forty minutes after I set off. Well, whatever. I have better things to do than know my way home... After all, I have Mello to be amazing and drive me to school in the morning... Damn I love that guy sometimes. Wait... I did not just say that... Holy fucking Link.

Anyway. I realise I don't have a key, but the door isn't locked anyway, when I try it. Which is good. Because otherwise I'd be royally fucked. A lot.

I have to assume he's in the shower, or sleeping, or doing something that doesn't involve the main rooms, since he's not in here right now. So, I decide to do the only smart thing possible. Bake a motherfucking cake. Yeah. Ok... What can I put in it... Actually, scrap that, I need a recipe. Right. Laptop. Smart one Matt, go find a fucking recipe on the net. So, naturally, I do just this...

...And realise the best thing to make would probably be a freaking chocolate cake. What a suprise. We have cocoa powder. Fucking hell, is there even usually anything normal in this house?!

Apparently there's a lemon. And a half finished jar of lemon curd... I mean, what the hell is with that? Lemon... And chocolate? Fucking weird combination if you ask me. Well, whatever. Lemon filled and covered chocolate cake for Mello it is. And so, my quest to create something edible begins!

And fails quite a lot, too. It takes me forever before I can ever get everything into the right bowl. One that's not too small, and ends up spilling everything over the sides. I swear, it actually takes almost two hours before I can get it all together to stir in a proper bowl. Aren't I just that fucking epic.

I pay far too much attention to cooking, apparently, because I don't notice Mello entering the room until his arms are safely around my waist and his chin's resting on my shoulder. Needless to say, I almost end up with a bowlful of successful mixture on the floor.

"Mello! What the fuck did you do that for?" I could've been more pissed off, but I just saved my cake mixture from imminent death. That's good, isn't it? Hell fucking yeah it is.

"Nothing... Just carry on," is his chosen excuse, which I let slide. For now, anyway. And I do carry on, mixing a little bit of the lemon curd into the stuff I already have, hoping it doesn't make it taste funny. Whatever.

It's sort of distracting though... I can feel his breath on my neck. Which is odd. Really, really odd. Not entirely bad, but strange. Maybe that's just me. Whatever. It doesn't help that he's decided to play with my belt though. I mean for fucks sake... More than a little bit uncalled for, don't you think. I mean seriously... I'm trying to bake here. He could at least try to respect the fact that I'd like to not completely fuck this batch of mixture up.

Everything goes fine for a short while, until I attempt to transfer my mix from the bowl it's in into a tin so I can cook it. Because Mello refuses to allow me to move. As in, refuses entirely and completely. What. The. Fuck. Completely uncalled-for... Jerk. I stay still for a moment, hoping he'll relent in a short while, but almost scream out in shock – almost, I have far more dignity than that – when I feel his tongue moving slowly across my skin just where my shoulder meets my neck.

Tongue... Slight teeth, _sucking_ on the exposed flesh as he gently pulls my head a little to the side, almost making me feel like a vampire victim. Holy shit.

Naturally, though, this doesn't last very long. Because I panic. And tear myself away from him in such a way that he ends up tripping forwards in a dangerously un-Mello-like, and ergo entirely non-graceful, way, a look of shock on his face, which probably intensifies when I abruptly smush his face down into my cake mix. And run, before he can get the shit out of his eyes and give chase. Because I probably don't want that right now.

I manage to get out of the apartment complex and halfway down the street before I have to stop for breath. Fucking wow, I'm getting better at this running thing. Not. Maybe I have asthma... I fucking hope not. That would be so shitty. Oh well. Anyway. On a completely different note, Mello doesn't appear to be following... So where to go...

Eventually I settle for wandering my cheerful way into the shopping place. Do feel free to completely disregard my sarcasm. I fucking hate shopping though, and I didn't pick my wallet up anyway; probably a good thing, since there's so much techie junk I could buy here.

Speaking of techie junk... I need to find myself a Internet Cafe. It makes my life easier. So let's run in that direction. And pretty quick, because I'm pretty sure I know how skilful his sneaking is. And I don't really want to give him a chance to chase me.

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**Not too bad? Maybe a review wouldn't go amiss? And yes, before anyone asks, there WILL in fact be an update next sunday. Because I'm amazing. Also, it's gonna be a collab with the amazing LawlietKeehl, my epic little Mero, so it's gonna be even better!! Is anyone excited? No? Well whatever then. Cruel people... :D Until the weekend then, lovlies :D**


	14. Sexting

**Oh wow... It's early! Say thank you to my Mello and ShinigamiMailJeevas xD Fun stuff, eh? Yeah. In theory. My net's being really slow while I type this, it's so annoying... Anyway. Yes, I'm afraid to say this is two things. MSN. And character building. Yowzers... Fun stuff, eh? That's the second time I've said that. Damn. Anyway, this was collabbed with the epic LawlietKeehl as Mello and me [un-epic] as Matt. Matt = PokeDorkFTW, Mello = Mello. Duh :D And btw, by 'Poke' I mean it as in 'Pokemon' not as in *poke* kay? :D**

**Disclaimer - I don't own MSN or my friend's mind :D**

**Warnings - Hints of.... yaoi. 'Cause Mello's pervy :D Also, crappy usage to text speak, yay? And obviously bad language... Do I even still need to say that?**

* * *

Fucking... Fuck. I fucking hate running, but I'm far too fucking paranoid not too, of course. Of. Fucking Course. It seems like far too long before I reach the sanctuary of... The Internet Cafe! Yeah. I ran from him to get internet. What's your point? He got me going again with his fucking teasing. And shit. Bastard. Play games, that sorta crap.

So, I quickly go to sign in on MSN. And guess who's fucking online.

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*Did you hack my acc?!

*Jackass.

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I didn't do anything to your fucking account, cut this shit!

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I know I never added you, quit stealing my passwords!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You're so fucking stubborn! I didn't do anything to your account!

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*Yh you fucking did, I never added you!

*wtf are you doing online anyway?

*Did you nick my laptop as well?!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*"Yh"? Matt, learn to spell...and can I ask what the fuck you're doing online?

*I think it's more appropriate for me to be asking you that, now isn't it?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*Well... I smushed your head and ran

*to an internet cafe

*you don't know me at all

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You're that scared of me that you're hiding out at some cafe? Jeez

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*oh ffs

*you would've fucking.. done me again!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You seem to assume you can get me horny just like that, you cocky bastard

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no i don't

*you just get horny too much

*fucktard

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Can I just remind you that you currently live with me?

*Do you want to be kicked out?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*NONONO

*I mean

*no

*douche

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Because I will

*Don't piss me off, Matt

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*gah, srry

*don't blame me for your temper though dude

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Your spelling's appaling, you know

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*stfu

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*And you talk about my temper

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*blah

*at least I don't screw kids for eating my food

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Matt, for the love of fuck, grow up

*Comebacks don't get to me

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*u grow up!

*and stop being a jerk

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I think you'll find you mean "you"

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*whts the difference?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You sound retarded

*And I do not

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*fckoff

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I will boot you out, Matt!

*Don't give me shit!

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*ehh, dude!

*that's lame

*I'll be stuck with people worse than you if you kick me out!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Don't think that'll make me hesitate

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*but...

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You should give me a little more bloody respect

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*oh ffs D:

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says: **

*Seriously...I've been thinking, and to be honest I still don't fully understand why I took you in in the first place...

*What motivated me to do that...?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*umm

*you love me?

**hopeful*

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*But did I then?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*IDK!

*you were there

*in ur head and stuff

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*No need to point this out, Matt

*It doesn't make you clever, no matter what you think

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*never said I was clever

*just saying, I dunno if you loved me at that point in time

*coz the whole doing kids thing

**glare*

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You make me sound like a total paedophile...I don't appreciate that.

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*well srsly!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*What?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*nothing

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*No, explain yourself

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*well

*technically

*and all

*you are

*I don't think so tho!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You don't have to hide anything from me, Matt

*I know you do

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I dnt

*ur not tht old..

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*What the fuck does that mean? I'm not fucking old

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I know, I just said that!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*The way you said it

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I ddnt mean it like that then

*you take everything the wrong way

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Oh shush, you're just a kid

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wtf

*thats got nothin to do with it!

*and if I'm just a kid, you shouldn't have been a jerk like that

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*When was I a jerk?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*OHFFSDUDE

*you screwed me

*that's being a jerk!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You weren't exactly protesting, were you?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*ur bigger than me

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Your point being?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I couldnt hv done anything!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Of course you could!

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*okfine

*nothing that wouldnt have got my ass kicked out the place

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*If you'd disliked my actions, you could easily have prevented them in a civilized manner, I'm sure

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*whatever

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*In other words, you have nothing else to argue?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*never said that

*ur just being a jerk

*and you hurt my butt

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Oh toughen up

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*how many times have you had that????

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*It's not like I shoved a titanium rod up your arse! You overreact so badly

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*it had the same effect!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Pfft

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*did

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Oh shush

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*your a fcking horny bastard

*wait

*I didnt mean that..

*... Mel?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*...

*"Mel"?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wht?

*arent you gonna blow up at me or something?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*...I don't get how you can call me that

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*why?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*One time, things got out of hand...but how can you base anything on that?

*I'm not some sex maniac

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*pshhh

*were you even in ur fcking lessons?!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*It's called "dancing"

*Surely you've heard of it

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*well yeah

*normal dancing

*that's freaking

*Idk

*not dancing. horny shit, whatever

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*****A modern routine does often involve a lot of gestures or actions that could, by some unimaginative folk like you, be seen as being "horny"

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*Im not unimaginative

*douche bag

*it's fcking horny!!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*That's it, I'm going to go lock the front door

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*whtno

*dude

*wht if I get kidnapped waiting outside for you to let me in?!

*wht if I ACTUALLY get raped?!?!?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*How likely is that to happen?!

*Drama queen

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*IDK

*says you

*pshh

*one fcking bite of ur precious chocolate Mels

*ONE BITE

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You still seem to think that was the singular cause of that whole scenario

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*coz it was!!

*I nommed, you attacked!

*wait I did not just say nom..

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Oh, you poor victim

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wtf

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You were enjoying yourself, don't fucking lie to me

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I never said..

*oh ffs

*thts not the point!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You're making this out as some sort of attack

*And you and I both know that it wasn't

*Cut this shit

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*well technically it was, yknow

*ur not gonna lock me out are you?!?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I'm thinking about it

*But then...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*If I did that

*...

*I couldn't have any fun

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*...

*DUDEWTF

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Do I really have to explain myself?

*I thought you would be able to work that one out

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*horny bastard

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Pfft you call me horny

*maybe I didn't even mean that

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*.. well you did

*wtf else could you mean by fun!?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*There are so many things I could've meant, Matt-kun

*You just chose to be perverted

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*Matt-kun? wtf?

*ok, what else could you hv meant?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*...

Talking to you

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*oh ffs

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*That's fun, for me

*Or dancing

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*.. dude, just coz you love me doesn't mean you hv to be a girl

*...

*and wtf

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Don't you fucking call me a girl you fucking bitch

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*well I know ur not a fcking girl, coz you fcking fcked me douche bag!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Why did you say it then, you prick?

*Master of contradiction, you are

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I ddnt mean literally, moron

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Well how else did you bloody mean it?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*like ur being all fcking feminine over the talking thing

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*What the fuck, Matt...

*You're so stereotypical

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no im not!

*its always girls like that

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*And when have you ever known a girl well enough to say so?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*...

*stfu

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Only because I'm right

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*fck no!

*I watch TV...

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Oh, get you, you watch TV

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*fuck you

*at least my LESS horny ass can do shit like that

*without screwing kids

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You are being such a shithead

*What is UP with you today?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*..

*NOTHING

*wtf

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I don't understand you

*Are you being like this because you're ashamed now of what happened the other night?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*never said that

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*A lot of what you've been saying has implied this

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*well ur being a douche

*!!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Do you love me or not?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*..

*I have said so

*more than you hv

*so yh

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Sometimes it's hard for me to tell

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*well I do

*whatever

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Ok...I believe you

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*you never say it though

*like once

*thts it

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Do you really need the constant reassurance of my feelings?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no

*ur just questioning me

*and then I can't do the same

*it's not fair!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You should have the faith in me to know that even when I leave things unspoken, the thoughts are still there...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*well im not a mindreader

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You shouldn't have to be

*I thought you understood me

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*you're impossible to understand!

*ur too amazing and change too much!

*..

*wait, I should rephrase that...

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*If you're referring to what I shared with you physically the other night...

*Well, there I would have to agree

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*oh ffs dude...

*why do u have to assume everythings like that?!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I don't

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*well yh you do

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Often it's you...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*stfu

*thats not fcking true

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You need to extend your vocabulary, pretty boy

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*pretty boy, wtf?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*What, would you rather I called you ugly bastard?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*.. no, but still

*makes you sound pervy

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Makes you sound like an awkward confused teenager

*Which I suppose...you are

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*Im not fcking awkward

*bastard

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I think you are

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*am not

*fck off

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*That's not really what you want.

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*hw would u know

*ur not in my head

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Thank god

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wtf?!

*whts wrong with my head?!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I'm sure you have your fantasies

*And I'm also sure I wouldn't want to see those

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*hey thts harsh

*Im pro'ly not the only one, am I?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*So you admit it

*Intriguing

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*WAITNO

*I never said tht...

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*It was strongly implied...

*But this fascinates me, Matt...

*What do you fantasise about?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*nothin

*fck off

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You so clearly have somethng to hide

*But I already told you...there's nothing you have to hide from me

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*Im not hiding anything

*fck off

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You are hiding something

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*am not

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I can tell you're lying

*So why don't you just come fucking clean already?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*coz theres nothing to come clean about

*fucktard

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*If you lie to me I have no reason to trust you in future

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*Im not!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Which will mean a lot of bad things for you

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*oh ffs dude

*leave off

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Not likely

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*why????

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I want to know you better

*Knowing what's in your head will help me get there

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*u dont need to knw whats in my head

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Although it would be very interesting

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wouldnt

*u dont need to knw

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*It's ok, don't worry

*I can guess what they are well enough

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wtf

*i doubt it

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*From what you've said, it isn't hard

*Unlike you ;)

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I AM NOT U BASTARD

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*No need to get angry

*I am merely stating what I'm sure is an indisputable truth...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no its not

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Oh but it is

*And even if it isn't...

*I could change that

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wtf, no u couldnt

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I've done it so many times before...

*Sweet really, how you thought I didn't notice

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*Idk wht ur on about

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Yes you do...you're lying again

*I'm disappointed

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*not lying

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You are

*I do things to you nobody else does...

*We both know it ;)

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*WTFSTFU

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Dear dear, Matty...

*You really don't like it when I'm right, do you?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*coz ur not

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*But I am...

*This isn't getting you anywhere, just give in already

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no ur not!!

*and no fcking way, coz ur wrong

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*No...

*You're just stubborn

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no im not

*u are

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Childish

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*am not!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*No, you're not...I don't fall for little kids

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*Im not a little kid

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You misunderstand

*You're not a kid...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*.. wtf dude

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*But although you're not a kid, I do think you act just a little immature at times

*Forgive me

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wtf thats harsh

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*No just the truth :)

*Another indisputable truth...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no it's not wtf!

*and the other one wasnt true either

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Yes it was

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wasnt!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Oh don't lie

*There's no point

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*its not true, I bet u couldnt get me hard rght now

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I could...

*Especially if I was there...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*noway

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*If I was with you right now

*Well, I know just what I'd do

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wht would u do?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You want to know, explicitly? Really?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*... nt like itd bother me

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Fine

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*fine

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Well you see...I'm very good with my hands

*Just one touch...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*well duh

*natural reactions ftw, idiot

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*One touch and you'd be dripping wet ;)

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no fcking way bastard

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Hell yes, bitch

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no. fcking. way.

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Yes fucking way...I bet you feel odd just thinking about it don't you

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*nofckingway

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Yes

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no

*ur not here, u wouldnt know

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Oh but I just know

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no u fcking dont

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Pfft whatever, I know you're not being truthful

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*how the fck would you know tht?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I have ways

*In more senses than the one, too...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wtf??

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I could make you scream

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no fcking way

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I could make you beg...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*again. no fcking way

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*All it would take would be my voice and my touch...

*And you'd be off

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no i wouldnt ffs stfu!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I could make you horny so easily

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*oh fck off!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I can make you want it...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*FCK OFF

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*All the more reason to come home swiftly

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*fuck. off. Mels.

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Oh?

*I understand.

*You want it right now, don't you?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no, ffs!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You do

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I DONT

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You have a craving for me, and you can't supress it...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I DO NOT STFU

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You WANT me

*You want me NOW

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I don't fck off!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You do, all you have to do is admit it

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*dont

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*It won't make me think any different of you

*In fact, I'll only love you more

*You have to accept it

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Are you trying to push me away?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*NOOO

*..

*no, im not

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Well then

*Accept what you are already

*(ie, horny)

*And get your butt back here

*Now

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no, im fine here thanks

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*All right...how long you thinking of staying "here"?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*idk

*a while?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Would you like me to sell your stuff?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*DONT YOU DARE

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*No?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*leave my stuff alone, bastard

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You are so touchy

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*im not

*fck off

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Hmm...I can't decide though if you're touchy or "touchy"

*You know what I'm saying?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*whts the difference?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Whether you're tempermental or nice to feel up, the difference is huge

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*WTF DUDE

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*...Yes?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*u just said u like to feel me up!

*wtf!!!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You love it

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*pedo

*wait I didnt mean that Mel..

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Oh is that what you think?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no

*I didnt mean tht

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*srry!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Doesn't that say something about you too, being in a relationship with a "pedo"?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*ur not, im srry Mels

*!!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*...

*Don't say it again

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I wont

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Good

*So are you going to come home or not?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*nt right now..

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*And why not?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*coz

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Because you're afraid?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Give me a good reason

*When you're out alone...

*I don't like that

*I can't know if you're all right

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*well...

*Im fine, kay?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Should I believe you though?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*yh

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Sure

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*you should

*Im at an internet cafe!

*how much damage can i do to myself?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Since it's you...anything could happen

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*yh right

*im not a total spaz Mels

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I know

*I never said that you were

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*u implied it

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Maybe I did

*But not in spite

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*pshhh

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I worry about you, despite what you might think

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*well u shouldnt

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Shouldn't I?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no

*im fine dude

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*So long as you're sure about that

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I am

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Fine

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*gd

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Just be careful

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I will dude

*srsly, dont worry so much

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Ok...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wht?!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I still don't know how not to worry about you

*You're just so

*Breakable

*I worry what might happen

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*im not breakable!!!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Yes you are

*Maybe you don't feel you are

*But you're not the best judge

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*whtever

*I can look after myself

*I did for years before I met u

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*It's so easy for me to forget how little I know about you...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*hw come?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You've been through enough already that you don't need my protection...I forget that so easily

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*thts not entirely true...

*I can just look after myself when im away is all

*you dont hv to worry

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Maybe not...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*yh

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Ok I believe you

*Just be careful

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*I will

***Ill come home soonish tho, k?**

Mello - You're getting better all the time says:

*All right

*Thank you

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*yh

*ur nt gonna perv on me when I get back are u?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Pfft you'd love it

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*u are?!?!?!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Not necessarily

*If you really honestly want it

*Then of course

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*u usually do anyway...

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*That's not always true...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*pshhh

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Sometimes, I accept, I let my heart rule my head...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*nd the rest of you

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Well yes

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*...

*wtf dude

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You said it

*I only agreed

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*... tht doesnt make it better dude

*srsly

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You suggested it

*You and your cravings for older men pfft

*What am I going to do with you?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*WTF

*I dont crave u ffs

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Yes you do, and we both know it, and I don't think badly of you for it...just accept

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*dude if I did

*would I really still be here and nt with u?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You're just afraid

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*am not

*about what?!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Maybe all of this frightens you

*Everything in our physical relationship

*Many people would be afriad

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*our physical relationship is U

*dude

*hw much do i actually do?!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You do the sound effects

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wtf dude

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You know exactly what I mean...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*whtever, ur just being pervy

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You're clearly not upset by this though

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*pshh

*whtever

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You're at a loss for words, aren't you?

*Again

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*fkc off i never said tht

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*But I can tell

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*whtever

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I rest my case

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*whtever dude

*why are u always so pervy anyway?!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*It's so fun to make you squirm

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*im not squirming ffs dude

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Oh but you are

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no. im. not. fck off

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*You have such a temper, do you not

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*i dont wtf

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*But maybe that's what I like about you

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*... um kay?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*If I say something you can easily uphold the other end of the argument

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*... kay?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I'm complimenting you, retard (L)

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*oh... kay?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Yes, it is ok

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*kay then

*hey, u called me a retard

*!!!

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Your reactions are embarrassing

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wtf?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I would've thought you'd notice straight away that I'd called you something potentially offensive, but no...

*Shame really

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*fck off bastard

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Oh way to make me feel unloved

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*u dont really

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*How can I know when you act like this =/

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*u dont really believe that dude

*or u shouldnt

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Yeah?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*yh

*I dont love anyone else kay

*so.. yh

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Good

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*wtf? ur acting possessive nw?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Well how would you feel if I was cheating on you

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*...

*id pro'ly leave, whtever

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Mhmm

*So it's good to know I'm alone in your heart too

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*so ur not cheating, right?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*No, I'm not

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*gd

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*And you're not either, just to confirm?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*no fcking way

*got no one bt near to cheat on u with... so no fcking way in hell

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Wonderful x

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*yh (:

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I love you Matt :) No matter what I say don't forget that, ok?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*kay, gotcha

*ummm... the reason i wont come home yet...

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Yes?

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*coz of how u were when I left

*and im sort of not... 'calm'? and.. yh

*my butt hurts

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I don't want to hurt you...so if it's not what you want to have sex when you're back that's fine :)

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*... but u do, i guess?

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I wouldn't feel comfortable having it with you if you were unhappy with your decision

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*oh... kay then

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*I'm not going to rape you :)

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*thts always gd to know..

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Yes

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*yh (:

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*So now that that's established...are you coming home or not?

*It's lonely without you...

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*umm.. yh i guess so...

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Excellent :)

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*yh

*kay, be back in a bit i guess

**Mello - You're getting better all the time says:**

*Ok :) See you soon honey ;)

**PokeDorkFTW says:**

*yh

_PokeDorkFTW has signed off._

Well... Ok, wow. I guess I'd better go... I get a slightly funny look as I just crash out the computer, almost jumping to my feet to get out of the place. Dunno why I'm suddenly so set on getting back fast... Shit. He really does have a lot more of a hold on my life than he thinks... Blood fucking hell. Well, whatever. I need to get home... and shit. Yeah.

I will honestly murder something if anyone tries to kidnap me or something after I told him I could handle myself.

* * *

**Well, how was that? Fun? I think the age difference is glaringly obvious for our little Matty here, right? Heh... Anyway, possibly a review? Tell me how you think about this silly msning? Would you like more Never again? This was done just to spite the LU, and because... Well, it was fun. Very fun. And Mello had fun helping me too, so I'll be sending her all the reviews for this chapter too, so maybe be epic and tell her what an amazing Mello she is? Because she's epic. Yes she is. Just as all my other reviewers and readers are. YAY :D**


	15. The Saltwater Room

**Ok, sorry! This isn't technically the chapter I should be posting... HLC is beta-ing me properly, but since I'm impatient, I asked - read as forced - my friend to just check it over quickly. I may or may not replace this chapter :D Anyway, I apologise for my uselessness, and maybe don't shoot me? If I get over 100 reviews [overall] then I'll post my new chapter as soon as possible. If not, I'll post it on Sunday. Wow, I'm in no place to blackmail... I did draw teh yaoiz for you guys yesterday though, which is why it was late.. heh.**

**Anyway!**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Death Note. Also, I apparently don't own my free will XD**

**Warnings - Short chapter? Does that count? Heh :D**

* * *

Admittedly, after the first street, I was back to walking. Partly because I was tired, and partly because I realised I'd gone completely the wrong way. Fucking hell... I really am useless. Still, it didn't take me that long to get here, so surely if I just go back the way I came...

It takes me about ten minutes before I finally accept the inevitable: I am very, very lost. Which leaves me one single option. Well, one option aside from wandering about until I end up somewhere I know. Anyway. I have to go ask someone for directions. Fucking perfect. I hate talking to strangers for any reason, let alone to admit I've been a total fucktard. Urgh, still, it could be worse. I could be in a foreign country. I know, I know, what a fucking problem that would be, trying to speak... Spanish or something. I dunno.

What does make it worse, however, is the fact that there is actually no-one around. It's getting sort of late I suppose, but still...

Another ten minutes into the future... Present, whatever, anyway, I finally found someone that didn't look stoned or wasn't homeless (three homeless people and a stoner... fucking wonderful) to ask for directions to Mello's apartment. Fucking hell, I'm glad I can even remember what it's called, and the street it's on. Otherwise I'd be so fucking dead...

I tap the girl on the shoulder, waiting a moment for her to screech a retarded 'B R B HONEY!' into her mobile before turning around. And I double take. So does she, actually. Well, she more quadruple takes and then almost trips over in shock.

"OH EM GEE, MATTY!" I flinch a little, scowling at my new 'pet-name' from this weird, weird girl. I know. Of all the people to run into, that random Misa chick from school had to show up to give me directions. Apparently, fate hates me. Fucking hell... She's so damn obnoxious! Seriously!

"Uh, yeah, hey... Look, can you-"

"WOW JUST GIVE ME A MINUTE HUN!" Again, _wince_. How loud should one girl be allowed to be? This is why I hate them, honestly.

"Yeah... Yeah, Raito-kun, I know, I know, I _know_! Yeah, I'm like... Yeah. Ok hun! Love ya!" And after a couple of retarded smooch sounds, she hangs up, stuffing her phone – plus about a million phone charms all making loud clanking sounds – into her equally decorated bag, which she immediately brandishes in a way that actually looked kind of frightening, in all honesty.

"So wow Matt-kun, what brings you, like, here, and like, coming to say hey to Misa-Misa?!" Just the sheer amount of retarded-ness in this situation made me wants to stab her.

"Actually, _Misa_, I need directions." That's simple, and to the point. No way in fucking hell anyone could possibly mistake that for anything else, right? Fucking, spastic blond... Well, she either didn't hear me at all or decided to disregard me completely.

"Wow Matt-kun, I know!! You should, like, totally come and like, come to my partaaayyy and stuff, you know?!" Sighing, I spend the next five minutes trying to explain that I don't 'partaaayyy' at all, and that I actually just want to get home. Fuck, I should've just called a motherfucking taxi. Seriously. She's not listening at all though, instead going on about all these girls she'd like to hook me up with. Uh, excuse me, wasn't she just telling my school how gay I was? Fucking hell...

All of a sudden, I'm almost deafened by a scream. From Misa. In greeting. But not for me, which is probably a good thing... Otherwise I'd obviously have to be concerned about her short-term memory. However, again, it's a bloodcurdling screech of 'RAITO-KUN' and I spin around, barely having time to register the fact that fucking _Light Yagami_ was standing in front of me before something horribly solid hit me in the face.

The last thing I really noticed was probably the fact that I had hit the floor. And then black.

* * *

Matt.

Matt, who always slept on my couch, and who always avoided the obvious comfort of staying in my bed.

Matt, who hid behind his games and his goggles, almost permanently.

Matt, who would say one thing, and mean another.

Matt, who was still naive, despite the fact I took his innocence.

Matt, who just naturally attracted trouble.

Matt, who despite everything he thought, could not in fact look after himself.

Matt, who is currently curled up on my backseat, with a fucking massive bruise forming on his forehead.

Matt, who I just willingly bailed out of trouble.

Matt, Matt, Matt.

He's so stupid... Of course I expected something to go wrong. He was so certain he could get himself home... The stupid, stupid boy. How could I not love him, for being so ridiculously innocent, so insanely cute, so unbearably retarded.

Yes, I would say that the intensely dumb kid sprawled out in my car is quite a masterpiece. The only person I know that could look so peaceful after being whacked in the face and semi-kidnapped.

Why in the hell does he do these things to me?!

After the first half hour, I began to worry, but fucking hell! The last thing I expected to find after tracing his cell phone – it's called resourceful, not stalking – was some brunette guy and his manically hyperactive girlfriend trying to transport the red head into some random car. I mean honestly... What the fuck.

And it was the Misa bitch again... Why... Why?! Oh for the love of...

Damnit. I guess... Get Matt home. Yeah, that's what I need to do. But shit is that girl lucky I didn't just bloody up and shoot her in the head. Seriously. She damaged Matt... Unfor-fucking-givable. I couldn't give a shit about the other guy, but he can damn well die as well. I swear... Shit. Eyes on the road, not on the adorably unconscious and damaged guy on my backseat. Fucking hell, I have fucking problems...

Whatever, I have more important things to worry about then Bitch and Bitch Two right now. Such as breaking the speed limit to get my Matt somewhere safe. Stupid boy... I could've come to pick him up, but no... Maybe this'll teach him to, oh I don't know, listen to what the fuck I happen to be saying. It's not like I'm not trying to keep him safe... Little fucktard. Oh well.

As, there's my apartment. Thank fucking god, it's getting vaguely late... I guess now I'll just have to watch him until he wakes up, give him pain and sleep medication, and then I'll catch a little bit of sleep. He's taking tomorrow off school though. And I suppose I'll take a day off work as well... No big deal, I practically own the place. Whatever.

* * *

**Wow. Lame, I know. My attempt at Mello... Was a fail? Heh, I know it was XD Anyway, I guess I'm being spazzy right now, so I'll just go away. Have a nice day :D**


	16. Sakura Kiss

**Ok. The long awaited sixteenth chapter! YAY! The first bit is written by moi, and then I gave up and violently shoved it at Mello to finish... And I have to say, despite my rude, rude impatience, I love this chapter best. I really do. And I apologise profusely for being such a tosser in my makeshift AN. Anyway. Here it is, magicalness and all!**

**Also, please go do my poll.. Vote yes.. Ya know... Heh xD Tis on my profile, so it'd be fun if you could vote? YAYS!**

**Disclaimer - I actually don't even own most of this chapter.. But I do still own the plot :D**

**Warnings - Mello wrote this. Which means it's smexy by default :D**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

I waited an hour. And then two. Admittedly, after the first one I was getting a little worried... After the second, I was beginning to freak out and think he'd gone into a coma.

His beautiful, perfect, flawless face... Marred – bruised and cut – by those fucking bastards... Misa and who? "Raito-kun"? Meaning, that fucked up bastard of a coward was Matt's _brother_... Holy fucking shit. No idea who caused the fucking huge bruise though. I mean, the Misa chick was holding this fucking solid looking lump of motherfucking metal, but I can't say I can see her breaking a nail over knocking out a cute redhead...

I almost had a fucking heart attack when I noticed him shift. Just a tiny bit, mind, but let me tell you, when I've been sitting stock still for the past two hours, without chocolate, the tiniest things make me jump a mile. I'm not paranoid. Just... Paranoid. Fuck that, my Matty's actually alive, and hopefully not brain damaged from those bastards. I will honestly hunt them down, skin them alive, and hang them by their intestines if I find out Matt doesn't remember who I am.

Then, so suddenly I almost fall off the edge of the bed, he jerks upright, letting out a shocked gasp that mingled with my name. I was in his first thoughts? Cute... I quickly wiped that out of my head, since he's now groaning in agony, and clutching his head, and teetering dangerously close to the edge of the bed while he's doing so.

Naturally, I follow my first instincts at this point, and tug him into my arms, cradling him gently against my chest. I somehow doubt it's all that comfortable – leather isn't the greatest pillow material, you know – but he immediately curls up against me, burying his face against my shoulder, his body shaking a little. Probably a combination of shock and pain, along with the confusion of waking up somewhere different to where he fell. I'm fucking glad those bastards didn't put up a fight when I asked them, in none too polite terms, if they'd give me back my fucking boyfriend.

Then again, I doubt I'd object all that much if someone was pointing a gun to my head. And if I happened to, oh I don't know, not be me. Because _I_ would've just taken the gun and shot the fucker in the face.

Although, I can see why your average civilian would be scared. Not that anyone needs to know or anything, right? Especially not Matt... God, I don't need him knowing I keep a gun handy... I mean, it's a useful thing to carry around when you plan on coercing people into doing what you tell them, but it's not what you need your fifteen-year-old-hot-as-fucking-hell love interest to know about.

Sighing, I rock him a little on my lap – when did he get there? Silly, wriggly boy – to try and help calm him down. He's shaking a little less now, and I'm almost surprised when he looks up at me. His eyes are wide and innocent, almost pleading. He could almost be just a kid again, which I suppose he still is...shit, it's so easy for me to forget how breakable he is.

There's a pause, before he quietly asks for medicine. I was almost expecting a loud demand, punctuated by curse words and growling... Actually, that's me, not him. Poor kid... I guess being hit in the face does something for your attitude. Though how long it'll last, I can't know...a little longer might be nice, though.

I attempt to make him lie down again so that I could go and fetch him some medicine or something, but he determinedly clings onto me, refusing to move off my lap. It takes me a moment to realise that movement might cause him more pain – headache's are horrible like that – and another ten to finally get him to allow me to stand up alone and dash to get him something to ease the headache. My poor, poor Matt... Why does he have to be stubborn and not do what I want when first asked...?

Well, either way, I get his medicine. I guess I think of it as his because... Well, when was the last time I needed it? When I got my burn, a couple of years ago. I have the pain threshold that sadists hate. And when was the last time that Matt needed it? Last week? Damnit... He's so fragile.

Or maybe I'm just a danger to the poor kid.

Either way, I get back to him and give him the shit quickly, though his hands are shaking too badly to even unscrew the bottle. Sigh. So of course, I take it off him, and end up having to actually help him even get it into his mouth. Fucking hell, he's pretty... Fucked up right now. I guess the blow to his head made his brain a little hazy or something. If there is permanent damage, I swear I'm going to murder them. Matt should still be Matt... Shit, I'm being so shallow... Of course I'd still love him no matter what. And of course he'd be the same guy. I guess it's the thought of someone inflicting that sort of damage on him that makes me mad...

Anyhow, once he's taken the medicine crap, he curls up against me again, making those adorable whimpering noises. I know, fucking hell, it's twisted to find those pained sounds cute... But I'm a sadist myself, and he does sound simply beautiful... If there was a way of hearing those noises without the expression of panic and agony on his face, I would take the chance in an instant.

I tighten my arms gently around him, hugging him tenderly to my chest, and watch in mild fascination as, eyes closed, he nuzzles his face into me with a small whine. One of his hands comes up to hold my forearm tightly, needily, and I stroke his head with my other hand as I watch this, touched. Shit, he must be disorientated to be being so...fond.

I shift ever so slightly, and unexpectedly he moans; shit, I should've known to be more careful. I cradle him closer, dropping my head to his ear to whisper my apology. My hair falls across his face, tickling his nose. There's a sudden snuffling noise, and it takes me a few moments to realise that it's Matt. As I come to this realisation he suddenly jolts as an explosive sneeze escapes him, followed quickly by several groans of pain.

Like that isn't the cutest thing I've ever seen. Urgh, I really am horribly fucking twisted.

After a few moments he's quietened down again, and his body is slumped unceremoniously against mine. He feels heavier somehow...I look down into his face and see to my surprise that he's fallen into a doze, with what I have to say is admirable speed. Poor kid.

So I lay back a little, shoulders on his pillow, to allow him some more room to sprawl across me, which indeed he does. Bless his heart; he's totally out of it... At least he doesn't look so pained in sleep. The grimace that had resided on his face while he was conscious had burnt just to look at. Now the peace smoothing his features reassures me, if nothing else, although the vivid bruising is a little more distressing.

His breath is so quiet and deep – definitely deep asleep already. The regular pattern of sighs is helpful for maintaining my calm, at least, but still my mind wanders back less than affectionately to Misa and her bastard "Raito-kun". I can't help it; right now I just want them dead so bad.

I don't know how or when, but I'm going to make those fuckers pay. I'm going to hurt them. I'm going to fucking kill them for doing this to Matt. Especially Light...! How he'd even found the inadequacy to do this to his own _brother_... It's not just that I hate what he did, I don't even know how to fucking _understand_ it. But the Misa bitch too, equally..._she fucking violated him!_

But right now, they aren't my priority. My priority lies here in my lap, dreaming fitful dreams, while I slowly tease my hands through his hair, untangling the snarls and smoothing the quirkier strands to his head. His hair is beautiful, now I really look at it... It's hard to believe it's natural, the colour's so vibrant... Just like Matt himself, I guess. But not right now.

I sigh and continue my work, vaguely aware of the wetness trickling down my cheek and wishing it would go away. But there's nobody to see it; nobody to make me feel ashamed, and so I let the tears fall, discolouring the sheets in small speckles.

I'm almost irritated with myself; I've seen him wake up, I've heard him speak, I've fed him his medicine, and now he's sleeping again in my arms – he's on the mend. This is totally irrational.

Maybe it's just the thought of how close I was to losing him... I flinch away from the thought even as it surfaces. Throughout the hours of his coma-like state I'd furiously told myself he would be fine, convinced myself of it totally; but I have to accept that it could well have just been a matter of luck. It was just lucky that Fate had decided in my favour, that Matt and I had to stay together.

Idly I ponder how long both our lucks will last. It's been said that beautiful things never last... I wonder, will this be the exception?

I must have been thinking for longer than I thought, as it seems very soon that I am disturbed by some more light snuffles from my charge. I look down and already Matt's eyes are on mine, bleary with sleep. I ruffle his hair affectionately and attempt a smile, probably an utterly fucked one. He responds anyway, rubbing his face into my chest with a slight groan, and I feel his body stretch as he attempts to wake himself up.

"How are you feeling?" I murmur quietly. He gives another short grunt and looks at me properly, somewhat more alert by now.

"Better...much better now," he says slowly, looking up at me with a grin as he finished. Shit, it feels like forever since I've seen his smile. Such a beautiful smile, too.

"Thank God," I sigh, squeezing him tight to me and kissing the top of his head lightly. "Thank God you're ok, Matt..."

Suddenly, he moves to prop himself upright, largely using me to support himself. I motion to help him, but he ignores my advances adamantly, wincing, until he's reached what he deems a satisfactory position, leaning against my torso, one arm around him, his head on my shoulder. His emerald eyes demand the truth.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened or what?"

I pause, then realise that euphemisms and procrastination aren't going to get me anywhere, and decide to attempt coming straight out with it instead.

"Well, Matt, what can I say? Your fucking godshite of a brother and his psycho girlfriend tried to kidnap you-"

Matt's head flicks up sharply, and he interrupts me, his expression outraged – although quite possibly with more confusion than anything else.

"Wait, fucking _what_?"

"Yes, I know...they tried to kidnap you, and, in simple terms, I got in the way." I smile bitterly and gesture at the bruising covering his pretty, pale cheek. "Not before they beat quite a lot of crap out of you, though-"

At this point I am interrupted again by Matt's indignant splutters. Shit, why do they sound so cute to me too...? Anyway, I break off politely to allow his exclamation, which turns out to in fact consist entirely of put-out, incoherent noises. He soon falls silent again, face blank with apparent disbelief. Then he turns his pure eyes to me, imploring me to straighten things out for him. Which I can't.

"Mello...I don't understand...Light...Light did that? And Misa?"

Slowly I nod, and upon seeing his reaction cuddle him closer, shushing him in what I hope is a calming fashion. "Yeah...sorry babes." I feel something wet fall on my hand, clasped around his arm. Oh, no, Matty, don't cry...

Matt shakes his head dismissively; brave little idiot, bless him.

"Don't be sorry...I'm lucky you were there, otherwise...who knows what could've happened..." His eyes become slits momentarily, watering furiously. "The bastard. The _bastard_. And Misa...the _bitch!_"

I can't help but smile a little. So down to earth, always, Matty...

Then he appears to think this through a little more, and looks quizzically at me. "How come you were there to stop them though, Mello?"

I pause, and shift slightly, fiddling absently with a strand of crimson hair. "It's because...because..." I sigh, giving up on all hope of not sounding over-protective and stupid. Fuck. "Because I just got so worried about you...I was afraid something would happen... So I traced your mobile, and..." I let my voice fade to nothing, hoping he'll understand. _Understand, please, you little douche_.

There's a long silence from the red head. Eventually he speaks, voice low and quiet.

"Oh. Right. Well...it's good you did. If you hadn't..." He shudders involuntarily, and I tighten my arms a little around him. Then suddenly he's angry. Suddenly, just like that. Just like me.

"My own fucking brother! Fucktard! What the fuck was he thinking? Him and fucking Blondie! That's just not... I mean what the fucking fuck?"

I wait patiently, rocking him slowly, as his sentence descends into a long stream of curses and mutters, resting my head on top of his. "Shhh...shhh..."

Eventually he quietens, and sighs shakily. Like he's going to cry again. No Matty, please, no tears...

And then, cutting the sombre mood in half like a knife through cloth, there is a strange, harsh buzzing from the bedside table. After both of us jump out of our skins a reasonable amount I twist in irritation to see what it is.

Oh for the love of fucking fuck. It's my fucking mobile, the screen flashing in blissful unawareness of my mood, vibrating cheerfully with the words "Work calling" scrolling across.

We both stare for a second of two, before I snatch it up angrily and very nearly scream "FUCK OFF!" down the line, luckily catching myself before I do anything too stupid. No matter what explanation I gave, I probably wouldn't get away with saying that.

And so, with my calmness sustained by a thread, I answer in as polite tones as I can muster. "This is Mello..." _This is Mello, what the fuck do you want now, you relentless shits? _

Yeah, just as I fucking thought. They need me, do they? Fucking tough. I have a love interest to keep alive.

Matt's ears must be sharper than I thought. He looks up at me as I slap the phone down onto the table again with a satisfying bang. "Go on, I'll be fine..."

I stare. "No you freaking won't! Matt, let me be blunt, you _can't _take care of yourself!"

To my slight surprise this doesn't seem to offend him at all. Instead he just holds my gaze earnestly, smiling as if in hope of reassuring me. "Really, I will! You have to go in..."

I narrow my eyes, and he sighs.

"Look, if I feel bad I'll just call you, ok? I promise." I consider. Maybe this is irrational, this will I have to protect him. There's only so much he can do to harm himself while pretty much confined in bed. "Promise, promise..."

And so I relent, with a sigh. "You'd better." He smiles his pretty little smile, his cheeks lighting up. Damn, he's so beautiful...

"Thank you, Mel-Mels."

...So that's what he calls me now, huh? Odd little boy. Maybe his poor head's still a bit fuzzy or something. As if to confirm my thoughts he rubs his head with a small moan. He sees my instant worry and attempts a small grin to hide his pain.

"Except maybe...a bit more drugs before you go?" He looks sweetly at me. No need, as I'm already reaching for the little bottle. Shit, it smells awful...

I hold it out near his face, and obediently he tips his head back and allows me to pour some into his mouth. He screws his face up as he swallows and weakly pushes it away. "Yucky."

Satisfied, I rise, trying to smile. "Don't have an overdose or some stupid shit while I'm out, will you? That would be taking the piss." He shakes his head innocently, grinning. "Good boy. Have a sleep or something..."

With this, I leave the room, before I give myself a chance to change my mind and go back. He'll be fine...maybe he'll get drowsy or something and doze for a while. Or maybe he won't...maybe he'll get dizzy and fall out of the fucking bed, or...or...

Jeez, I need to stop fucking panicking. This is so unlike me.

Then again, Matt has changed so much about me. And all for the better, as far as I can tell. I love him so much. Maybe it's only natural for someone so important to make me worry like this. Nobody else has ever been the same. Nobody else ever will.

...Wow, he really has screwed around with my head. Since when before was I ever this...wet? Soppy? This is insane. But Matt did this...

Matt, my beloved, chaotic, stupid, sweet, brave, _beautiful_ little Matt.

He'll be fine. He _will _be fine.

And so I leave.

The fact that a slightly broken Matt was waiting alone at home for my eventual return did nothing to make my hours working go any faster. But fast or not fast, the main point is that eventually I _was _home again, and I _was _going to see Matt. And, as I'd convinced myself earlier, he _was _going to be just fine.

This prospect of my Matty, and his good health, brightens my mood spectacularly on the way home, and I quite literally breeze through the front door, only just biting back a smile. Since when have I ever felt this cheery just to be home? Fucking hell. But the worst is yet to come. Before I can question what strangeness is screwing around with my head I've already called out, "Matty, I'm home!", putting a repulsively cliché emphasis on the last word. Ugh.

There's no answer. For just a second I panic. In the name of all that is chocolate smothered and good...what if he actually was retarded enough to roll out of bed and smash his head in or something? What if he _has _taken an overdose of his medicine? _What if he's forgotten how to breathe?_

And then suddenly I can hear it, loud and clear from the living room. A quick, peppy beat, one I was pretty sure I recognised as being a song that was a little more complex a dance than most I taught. This was a song I reserved for the very special...

"_Sext, sext, sext, ME!"_

That certainly clinches it, then. Sexting, Blood On The Dancefloor. Ashamedly I must admit that I love this band. Their lyrics are just so utterly shameless, utterly _sexual_... They are, undoubtedly, to my mind, purest genius.

Silently, I place my bag on the floor, remove my shoes, and pad noiselessly into the living room, where the music is louder, the pulse more vivacious than ever. The sight that greets me is both shocking and wonderful in the same moment.

Matt, the poor, beaten, Matt, is dancing energetically before me, his body moving lithely like he's made of his beloved Red Bull or something. I accept that it's a crap comparison, but the point still stands that he's moving pretty nicely. I obviously taught him well.

... But seriously, he's moving _beautifully..._as in, so much better than I remember. He doesn't look like the awkward kid I met those weeks ago. He looks - if I am honest and let my attraction for him get in the way – fucking hot. If he only knew I was watching.

As is always the case, seeing such a well executed dance inclines me to want to join in, especially seeing as Matt is the main person involved in this, and... Whoa, well that wasn't extremely hot. He couldn't have picked a better move for "sticky drama all the way" than flicking his hips powerfully to one side, moving a hand down the side of his body as he does so, juddering just as the music does, adding a loud sigh for effect. Admirable.

"_Time to use my tongue on you"..._

Kudos to him, for picking up on the things slutty Misa-esque dancers do on TV and recreating them so perfectly. It's really quite an achievement.

As interesting as it is, I can only continue to be a spectator of something so beautiful for so long. It's time to give Matty a little surprise.

As he continues to writhe, I move forwards onto my toes and begin to move stealthily towards him. Lucky he's not turning around... Yet. I'd appreciate it if he didn't, because that would really ruin the surprise for him. He'll love it, anyway.

"_Show me whatcha got, on my LCD..."_

He's well and truly showing me what he's got right now. Credit where it's due, he has come a long way with his dancing... He should be proud. If he keeps this up I'll be hard in no time.

"_Let's get down to it so you can get down on me..."_

Carefully, I reach out one hand in front of me, ready for action. Just a little closer now...

"_Cybering is so 1999,_

_You gotta be textually active if you wanna be mine!"_

So close...I bend my knees just slightly, poised for action. As the chorus begins, I launch myself the last couple of feet, and suddenly there's my hand, between Matt's legs, holding his crotch, and not letting go. And as expected, Matt's reaction is to jump about a foot in the air with a loud squeal and look around, panicked. He sees me, sees my smirk, and appears to momentarily faint, controlling himself just enough to not do so and fall on me. My other arm snakes around his waist, and the crotch-hand tightens, much to his apparent excitement.

I look up, eager to see his reaction, and my truly paedophilic side takes over in an instant. I shift my hand a little, trying to establish what he likes most, and am pretty certain I've found it when he gives a loud whine and looks at me with eyes practically begging for more. Oho, horny Matt.

As his face is still dreamlike with pleasure I rise again to my full height, and put my other hand on his hip, and pull him close to me. Why waste time with just feeling him where there's such an apt song to dirty dance to? Allowing my hands to move slowly up his body, I decide to go straight in with the grinding, powerfully into his general pelvic region, and roll my hips around in circles a bit just to liven things up a little more.

Needless to say, Matt seems to like this rather a lot. Or at least, his pants do.

I can't help but smirk again; it's so damn easy to love someone who gets so helplessly excited so very easily. He's such a teenage boy.

But wait up, what's this...? He's not content with my abuse, huh? Seems not, as he's just mustered the audacity to grind right back at me, eyes fixed on my own, glittering teasingly. Since when did this happen? I'm the fucking dominant bastard in this scenario!

Well, I'm not standing for this nonsense. In punishment for his cockiness I grind again, right back at him, harder this time, allowing my hands to play across his back and shoulders, dropping my head to whisper into his ear. "Cheeky, cheeky..."

He sighs, grinning. So much for punishment. Well then, maybe I'll just have to take his face off with another amazing making-out session.

I dip my head and, relatively gently, attempt to force a reaction from his own, nuzzling at his face and breathing in his sweet smell. For a teenager he actually does smell rather adequate...

Ah, I knew it wouldn't take much. He raises his head just a few degrees to meet my requested kiss, and confidently it seems, parts his lips to allow my tongue's entry almost as soon as our skins touch. Surprised though I am by his boldness I continue, impressed, and let my tongue dip into his mouth, tentatively at first, then more easily as I feel his body push closer into my shape, willing me to continue.

And so I do, and soon succeed in squeezing the first moan from between his lips, and straight into my own face, loud and clear. I break away, partially for air, and partially to smirk at him. "Now, now, Matty..." I murmur into his ear, getting little wisps of fiery hair in my mouth, continuing to grind, adding in the odd buck. "Calm yourself..."

He laughs shakily, sounding drunk, and roughly angles his head to reclaim my lips. I return the gesture enthusiastically, hands moving back down to hold his hips firmly, rubbing small circles across them. He moan-giggles again, and I buck once more, teasingly, resuming the kiss we started with vigour.

But all too soon, the moment is ruined. Just as my hands are fumbling with the buttons of his trousers (he must've been uncomfortable...) we are both distracted by a loud knock on the door. We stand, bodies largely entwined, in silence for several seconds, having both broken out of the kiss by now, looking in mild disdain towards the hallway. Eventually Matt brings it upon himself to break the silence.

"There's someone at the door, Mello."

* * *

**Eh? EH? Was that not epic? It was. And I will not listen to anyone that says otherwise. So yeah.. YAY! I know roughly what's gonna happen next time [more smexing? ooohh, we shall find out ;D] so it's all gonna be fun and stuff!**

**Review for my Mello? Please? Because the more reviews, the more inspired I will be to get Matt and Mello all togethery [;D] again.. Ahhh, the sweet smell of blackmail... Anyway. I'll shup now :D**


	17. Beating Hearts Baby

**Well, as we all know, my wonderful Mello took over for my last chapter... And now D is back! Hell yeah :D Anyway, I had this all thought out while Mels was writing my last chapter, and finished writing it on Saturday :D Sadly, my new beta [Miharu is Haruka's Love Child, unless I got the name wrong :D] was all unbeta-ing, so instead this was checked by the equally epic ShinigamiMailJeevas ^^ How cool is that? Very, in case you were wondering. Oh yeah, and Matt's POV is back now :D YAY! xD**

**You guys! If you have the time or you're not lazy like me [high five if you are!] go vote on my poll :D And vote yes... please? I likes to pimp my poll, 'cause it means I can be right for once *happy grin* **

**Disclaimer - I do not own Death Note. I do still own this plot though, even though it should technically be shared with all my wonderful friends, since they've thought up just as many ideas for this as I have XD**

**Warnings - Supreme yaoi. Yes. You heard me correctly. SUPREME! Run and hide, little ones *evil grin* And suprisingly, I know, cursing. OHWOWZ :O xD**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

"There's someone at the door, Mello."

Well fuck it all. I was enjoying that... Far too much, but still... So unfair. Fucking doors. Fucking visitors. That's actually the first time that I've known anyone to actually come here, though, so I just generally assumed that Mello doesn't get visitors, I suppose... Fuck it all.

And no, this does not make me just another out-of-control, hormone driven teenager. It makes me a fully sane human being. I mean, bloody hell, who wouldn't get aroused by someone like Mello acting like that? A crazy person, that's who. So I swear to all things Pokémon, once whichever bastard's gotten the hell away from that door, I am so gonna continue what he started. Or did I start it? Whatever.

Slowly, Mello moves away from me, his hand moving softly over the front of my jeans as he fully untangles the two of us, before stomping towards the door, suddenly looking in a slightly more characteristic – I think, anyway – angry mood.

Being a naturally stupid and curious guy, I obviously follow a couple of steps behind him, interested in what's gonna happen. I flinch a little as Mello wrenches the door open so violently it actually smashes against the wall and probably would've slammed closed again if he hadn't stuck his foot in the way, forcing it to bounce back – again – and hit the wall, only this time with slightly less force.

And I swear, I fucking gasped. What the f-

"Oh, L. What're you doing here?" I could almost see the expression on his face; livid but trying not to show it. Almost, because I'm standing behind him. Course, that does mean that I get a pretty nice view of his ass... And I gotta say, the sooner my fucking _councilor_ is done with this little visit, I want... What do I want? Maybe we could 'dance' some more. Yeah. That sounds pretty fucking good to me.

"Mello...? Matt?" He looks a little thrown off. Inching forwards to get a better look at Mello's face, I can see that he's in shock. Does this L guy not visit him so often? Or at all? Or does he just not know how L knows me? I haven't told him about my counseling, have I? Fucking hell, too many bloody questions... Do not want!

"How did you find my apartment?" Mello's voice was pretty sharp, which I didn't understand. Is his housing supposed to be secret or something? Or am I? Again, far too many questions. I don't like it much.

"I was simply looking around to find out about Matt's current living arrangements," he replied quietly. Honestly? That's freaky. Fucking weird... Who in their right mind would voluntarily seek me out, anyway? Well, this guy, obviously, but seriously... Brilliant. Bloody fucking brilliant. My 'mental helper' is now my stalker as well. Shit... What a creep...

"Well, you found it, didn't you? Now what do you want?" Taking another step, I catch hold of Mello's sleeve and tug, bringing his attention back to the horny little bastard that is me.

"Mels, how do you know him?" He sighs, pulling me against himself almost protectively, with one arm around my waist. Makes me feel sort of important, actually. Or maybe 'loved' would be a better word… Still.

"He was a friend from when I was younger," he replied, in a way that was pretty obviously not welcoming. But why... Why the fuck... Is this about me? Or is that just me being big-headed? Whatever. L watches this with an almost nervous expression. Except that his face is pretty disinterested, so it's more a sort of vague, contemplating look. Well fuck him.

"I came to tell you something, Matt," was his calm reply, as he essentially invited himself inside, stepping past the two of us and heading into the room we'd just been dancing in.

Still with a protective hand rubbing my hip gently, I made to follow him, Mello quickly keeping up and keeping me firmly glued to his side. L has apparently taken it upon himself to sit on the couch, which only left the shitty – maybe that's a little unfair, homely might be better? – armchair opposite to him to sit in. Since I guess Mello didn't really want to have to turn himself around to listen to what the guy had to say.

He did in fact take the armchair, but pulled me down onto his lap as I made to simply lean against the arm part of the chair, making me blush a little. Fucking hell, even with all his anger... I can still feel him slightly hard under me. Fuck. There's something I never expected to say... Still. I need to calm the fuck down, otherwise I'm gonna be hyperaware of his every move, and that's not so brilliant with company.

"Matt, I don't know how difficult this will be for you... But Light is dead."

Frozen. Yeah, that pretty much sums it up? The fucktard that made my life hell... Is dead? What? Dead? How... How? I quickly look around at Mello to see if this is news to him, slightly worried that he would've killed him while 'rescuing' me... Surely not. No fucking way, he would've at least hinted at it if he had.

"How?" Surprisingly, the hushed whisper doesn't come from me, it comes from Mello, who has a deep frown creasing his forehead beneath his blond hair, eyes narrowed a little as he stared at L.

"There was an accident. I saw it, and naturally thought I should inform his brother." Does this guy know everyone? That's just weird... How does he know Light? Damn. I'm too confused. Give me dancing any day over trying to work out if I'm meant to care or not. Because it might seem harsh, and completely bastard-like, but I'm sort of glad. It means no more kidnapping, hopefully.

Mello merely raised an eyebrow, waving a hand to tell him to elaborate, one hand coming up to my hair to gently run his fingers through it, adjusting my position a little.

"A traffic accident. I wasn't involved, naturally, however it was quite... violent. The car was driven straight into a wall. Light didn't seem to be driving, a blond girl was instead. She obviously wasn't paying any attention. It was really quite tragic..."

Tragic, my ass. That Misa bitch is clumsy as shit and killed my brother. And herself, apparently... Not too shabby, for an airhead.

"They both died quite quickly, so I doubt there was too much pain on their part-" damn "-but they were still taken to hospital to be checked over. Are you alright, Matt? You look quite vacant." That sounds just about right. Why? Because I don't care. Hell, I'm glad Light's gone. He's only been a fucking bother to me for years... Since I was what, seven? And all because of dead and living parents all messing about and abandoning the both of us. Well fuck that.

Mello frowned a little, before gesturing towards the door. "You can go now, L." That was it. Simple dismissal. Sighing, L stood up and headed towards the door, pausing before he was out of sight to turn and look at me with those scarily uncaring eyes.

"Remember, Matt, you can come and talk to me at any time," he murmured, voice monotone, just as it had been throughout the little 'meeting' or whatever, before he swiftly exited.

I heard the quiet click of the door closing, and then even softer footsteps fading out.

"Well that was dramatic…" Mello murmured, not looking particularly happy with this, before rather abruptly pulling me around so that I was unintentionally straddling him, his hands steady against my waist. "Are you alright, Matt?" he questioned, quietly. How do you answer that? Yes, I'm fine, even though my only relative with a known location is dead. I suppose if it weren't for Mello, I'd be on my own... Damn do I love the guy... Mello, not Light, I mean.

"Fine.." I reply quietly, cheerfully settling myself down despite the sudden change of position, flashing a cheeky smirk at him as he moves one hand to cup my cheek, before sitting up straighter and leaning forwards to catch my lips in a kiss that pretty much perfectly matched the previous ones, while we were dancing.

I respond quickly, my arms winding around his neck to keep him close while his hands played with the hem of my shirt.

"Would you care to dance?" he suddenly asked, making me mumble irritatedly at the loss of pressure against my mouth, but quickly grin as he pushed me gently from his lap, moving to switch the music back to the track I'd been dancing to. I blushed a little. I really did decide to dance to this on my own before, didn't I... Damn.

He's staring at me expectantly, one arm held out loosely as an invitation to me. Which I obviously take. Who in their right mind wouldn't? Well, anyone that doesn't want a hormonal teenager ripping out their innards wouldn't, but still.

Smirking a little, he pulls me so that my back is pressed flush against his chest, his hands dancing across my hips, before one hand rather abruptly moves back to my crotch, making me groan a little, my head tipping back onto his shoulder so I could see his expression. Which happens to be a satisfied grin.

He rolls his hips, his slightly less occupied hand finding my hip, forcing me to press back against him as he does so. Hello, sexual harassment much? Not that I'm complaining. Not that I could find the voice or even thoughts to complain. Hell, I don't know why the fuck I'd be complaining in the first place! It feels... good. Fucking amazing... And shit am I hard...

It's sort of annoying just how calm he is, while I'm stuck in a crazy, sex-starved teenage body. Course, I'm not trying to say he's not having the same problems, but he doesn't seem quite as affected... Unfair.

Ok, so he asked for dancing, but this is more grinding in an overly sensual way while _Sexting_ plays loudly in the background, which I don't object to at all... Ah well. It's still fun, though in a slightly different way to how maybe playing video games would be fun. Whatever.

I was pretty much oblivious to the fact that I was moaning while he touched me through my jeans, his body rocking against mine in time to whatever beat was going on now, my head just about ready to implode, while I knew his trademark smirk would be in place, taunting me for my hopelessness and neediness, even though the smirk alone could make me feel slightly bothered, let alone with all this going on as well.

Slowly, his hands went back to toy with my jeans, and I blushed a little as I felt him undo them, my eyes moving again to look up at him. Here we are, standing in the middle of his apartment, one hand almost down my pants while I'm trying not to just... explode, for want of a better word. And damn does he know it... Fuck, he's almost too much for me... No, what am I on about? He's way too much for me, and I fucking love it. Apparently.

Teasingly, he bucked his hips a little, making me gasp, and he used the distraction to push my jeans a little firther down my hips a little, while his free arm curled around my body to tilt my face towards him, just like earlier, leaving it to me to press my lips against his with almost feverish excitement.

It suddenly hit me; what the hell am I doing? I just found out my brother – ok, so he's not my real brother, but still – is dead, and all I can think about is Mello, and Mello's body, and how well our bodies would _fit_ together. I hate my teenage mind sometimes. I bet by tomorrow I'll be devastated by everything. Oh well. Live for the moment and all that.

Almost as if sensing my sudden hesitation, his tongue moves across my lips tauntingly and I grant him access almost immediately, craving the feelings this would inspire. Fuck, to anyone else, this would look like major rape... Kid with flushed cheeks and an embarrassed expression, adult with a hand at his jaw to hold him in place to have his face kissed off, with one hand down said kid's pants. Fuck. I kind of enjoy this though, my whole body twitching and shifting to try and get _more_...

I feel a small chuckle shake his body a little, before he continues to molest my mouth with his tongue, essentially leaving me helpless, and my legs feeling like mush.

Fuck knows when he managed to maneuver us to the couch, but he did, pressing me back against it and straddling my hips, his hands running under my shirt to lightly dance across my stomach and chest, making me arch up against his hands, craving more, not just the too-innocent fingertips running across my torso. He leans back down to kiss me, but only holds it for a second or so, then pulls back, making me whine a little, before he yanks my shirt over my head, smirking as he moves back a little to stare openly at my body. Fuck. Well, if that doesn't make me nervous, nothing would...

Shifting back a little so he's sitting on my thighs instead of my hips, he leans down, deliberately slowly, a wicked smirk on his face, his hands trailing down my sides as he watches my expression. My eyes flicker closed, slightly embarrassed by the lusty look on his face, before snapping open again as I felt something warm and wet trailing across my collarbone, then shifting down to tease me further, my body damn close to desperate for his touch, writhing, without me ever giving it permission to do so.

"Mello…!"

I hardly recognized my own voice, with its almost begging tone as my slight muscles tense and relax under his perfectly sinful tongue. Though he couldn't leave it at that, moving back up to my neck, switching to nipping and kissing at the skin until I was panting for breath while he littered small, almost unnoticeable marks across my skin, before rather abruptly stopping at a small expanse of skin as I moaned out his name again, and nipping at it again, making my hips arch up a little off the couch.

I could almost feel his smirk as he began to work at that spot with his mouth, pretty much making me feel like a hopeless lump of jelly underneath him, aroused beyond belief, my whole body craving his attention. So different to last time… Or maybe I just don't remember that as well as this, since I can feel it all right now.

Either way, I feel like I'm going insane as he continues to pretty much tongue-fuck that single spot on my neck, and I know it's gonna be a pretty bright bruise by tomorrow. And fuck, I couldn't care less. Feels… Far too good to care. Definitely. Damn… I feel… I don't know what I feel… Everything… That's not a feeling, but still.

I dunno if he knows exactly what he's doing to me, but even so, I'm irritated he's purposefully ignoring my arousal in favor of running his mouth across the rest of my body, careful to keep his weight and body away from my hips. Admittedly, I'm sure any friction whatsoever right now would send me over the edge, but for fucks sake… It's impossible not to keep trying to get just that. Sometimes I wish my body was a little more resilient, though I think it's more will power, since I can feel him getting harder against my leg, without acting on it. Hell, he's fucking insanely good…

Without giving me any real warning, he moves back, tugging his own shirt off and pausing a moment to drop it to the floor, before his eyes move back to mine, which just so happen to be glued to his body. So perfect… Still so perfect! Damn, I'm not out of shape or anything, but he's just…. Wow.

He suddenly moves himself back so he's sitting, limbs sprawled a little, on the couch, entirely off me now, but gesturing to me to move to sit on his lap. Which I do, gladly, groaning softly as I feel… _him_ pressing up against my ass, his own face losing it's perfect composition for a moment at the pressure, before he pulls his well-rehearsed smirk back into place, his hands stroking up the insides of my thighs, barely with enough pressure for me to feel it through my jeans. But damn does what I feel make me feel… Horny. Only word for it now.

I am officially no more than a horny teenager as far as Mello as his own hormones are concerned. Fuck…

His hands slowly inch further up my legs, making them twitch and jerk a little as I try and control myself, his hands hardly even avoiding my crotch this time before they reach the waistband of my jeans, which is considerably looser from being undone, duh, and pushing them down a little more, not even bothering to be subtle about it. Not that that's possible, anyway.

By this point, I'm barely more than a groaning mess, melting into his every touch, my whole body screaming for more, _more_…

His own body is beginning to betray his own need, hips rolling occasionally, almost begging for the friction I so wanted. It's almost scary how damn close I feel right now… But I refuse to ruin his fun. Not that it would really ruin anything… Hell, he'd probably make to lick it off me, getting me hard again in the process. Fuck, that's making me feel... crazy, all on its own… That's the sort of thing I think about while in the fucking shower or whatever. Hell, if he knew half the shit that happens in my head, I'm sure he'd try and get me to relive it all, in reality instead of in my head. And fuck…

Fuck it, I'm so easily distracted, I didn't even notice that he's now managed to get rid of my jeans, leaving me in my boxers – which happen to be Pikachu ones… I wasn't really prepared for this at all – and in turn leaving pretty much nothing to the imagination. Then again, he's already seen me entirely before, but still…

One hand moves back to press against my groin, making my body lurch a little, hips bucking almost violently up against his hand, making him snigger evilly, pulling me back against his own body, his free hand shifting across my chest to tease me further, making me feel almost like I'm melting against him. The room feels like it's heated up so much, from our body heat alone. And hell, I'm not complaining, even if our bodies are starting to stick a little from a slight sheen of sweat that's building up across me, from the sheer exhaustion and _sensuality_ of all of his teasing. Hell knows, I'm just gonna jerk myself off he doesn't fucking _hurry up_…

So fucking what if this is all happening because of the more pedophilic tendencies of my… lover? Boyfriend? What do I call him now, anyway…? So confusing… Whatever.

He grins, his fingertips sliding beneath my boxers, but barely, leaving me tense and moaning in sheer _anticipation_ for what might come _next_… But he fucking refuses to deliver, instead turning me around to stare directly at me, making me blush a little from the beautifully open expression on his face, almost screaming out what he wanted, making me shiver a little. Not even bothering to pretend that he's not turned on anymore, he choses instead just to wriggle out of his tight leather, my eyes immediately attracted to the scene with train-wreck dedication; I just couldn't look away. And he knew it, as well.

It was at that point I remembered that he never bothers trying to fit underwear underneath those stupidly tight pants, a smirk on his face as he watches me practically drink in the sight, before my eyes move back up his body to his face, swallowing slowly as he removes his trousers entirely, before I move forward, licking gently at his neck, making him moan quietly, before he pushes me back roughly, tugging at my boxers until they slide down my legs, before rather cheekily placing his knee between my limbs, teasing me until my legs spread on their own accord, with him biting back either a moan or what I assumed would be an incredibly heated comment as this happened.

I almost didn't notice while he prepared my body, slowly, his hands moving skillfully, one actually inside me – cue severe wetness happening round about my crotch – and the other slowly tracing the contours of my body, my back arching every so often to try and get more contact from the dancing hand, which eventually moved to cup my face, pulling my mouth to his for a heated kiss that could barely even be called a kiss, more just a heated clash of mouths and tongues, moving wetly against each other in no particular pattern, with barely any thought put into it, really just for the feeling and the pleasure of it.

Admittedly, my entire being is still tense and yet also almost liquid-feeling under all the lavished attention, but I can still feel his hand moving, stretching me, trying to persuade me to loosen up. Hell knows, he has the patience of a fucking saint… How does he even manage… For so long… And I feel about ready to… jizz. Everywhere. Whatever. I have no self control, does anyone have a point?

Rather abruptly, his fingers find a spot inside me, making me almost scream out, before I quickly tone it down to a moan, my back arching away from the couch needily, before he presses a hand down on my chest, forcing me down again, making me quite literally writhe beneath him in an attempt to get just a _little_ more contact… Just enough to send me spinning off on such a fucking high… I mean, I can already sense a mind-blowing orgasm in my immediate future, if only he'd let me reach it… Fuck… Now I'm even thinking funny...

I actually whine quietly when he removes his hand, his fingertips stroking across another very pleasurable part of me, before he reaches across me to the shabby table by the end of the sofa and grabbing something off it, and I was unable to resist quickly catching another passionate kiss from him while he was in such close proximity, before he moved back, still sitting between my legs, leaving me blushing slightly as he squirts something I'm not really paying any attention to into his hand, though my eyes refocus as I hear him moan, his hand slowly moving along himself, a blissful expression on his face.

I was almost growling with frustration until he removed his hand from himself, smirking a little at the expression that must've been on my face; want, need, sexual frustration… I don't know. I don't care, either. Unknowingly, I expect, I'd made an attempt to close my legs – hey, I _do _have some innocence and modesty left, you know – and he quickly fixes this by using his previous trick of teasing my arousal until my body moves on its own accord, before his hands move to my hips, adjusting both of our positions in a way that was almost careful, a shudder rocking through both out bodies from the short moment of waiting he left.

I can't say I was even really expecting it when his body moved, joining us in a way so passionate it was almost rough, making me quite literally cry out until my teeth found my lip, pinning it and forcing back needy screams and moans, even though he wasn't bothering to do the same now, groaning loudly.

Oh fuck… He looks so… Blissfully perfect… Gah…

My thought's dangerously disjointed already, he slowly tested my reactions again, moving a little way out before slamming back, making the both of us let out something that was half a stream of expletives, and half a stream of moans and yells. And fuck does he make nice noises… and I guess I must do to, since my movement to try and cover my mouth with my hand was stopped by a strong hand at my wrist, pinning my arm above my head, while my other hand twitched and grasped at the couch, unable to get a decent hold but not caring enough to try harder.

He continues to slowly move while I try my best to adjust… Though I have to say, it feels… Far better than before. So much better… He slowly adjusts his position, almost as if he were testing out how I reacted to each movement, waiting until–

–Fuuuuuuuuck!

Oh my… fuck… So good… I voice this without even thinking, my arms fighting against Mello's hand to wind around his neck, pulling him closer, my eyes squeezed shut, sadly rendering me unable to see his face, but also forcing me to _feel_ so much more… Oh hell…

I can imagine the smirk on his face, coupled with darkened, lust-filled eyes, panting a little as he continued his slightly rougher-than-necessary pattern of thrusts, heat bursting through my body each time, making our bodies feel almost unbearably hot, but at the same time so enticing, my whole being craving _more _from the beautiful blond male above me.

I could sense the same sort of heat, but so much more intense, pooling below my stomach, and I tugged at Mello's hair, forcing him down to kiss, another lust-filled meeting of tongues, barely even bothering with anything else as he tried to focus, his body almost moving on its own accord now, it seemed, his hands running down my body, pulling my legs around his waist and following my moaned commands to move faster, _harder_, while I barely even knew what I was saying.

"Nghh.. Matty.." he gasped out, mouth still against mine, meaning I could feel his impassioned breath against my lips, another feeling I could only want more of, and I had to assume this was what happened when my hormones _really_ got worked up, as opposed to an almost one-sided 'revenge' shag for the sake of Mello's chocolate. Shit.

Not that it mattered now… Hell, nothing mattered _now_, it was all Mello… Only Mello…

Despite my original frustration at being so close and wanting to just get rid of the tension in me, now I wanted to just fucking hold out… Forever… Let this continue, perfectly. Still, that's pretty damn impossible, and I could barely stand all of the pressure, both from me and Mello, the way his hand had taken to pumping me in time with his movements, leaving me gasping and writhing as his mouth latched onto my neck, leaving bright hickey's in his wake, and making me moan louder, from all the almost impossibly pleasuring sensations.

My restraint hit the end first, my body writhing under his touch while the pent up pressure quite literally exploded, my body tensing and relaxing slowly at the same time, before I felt Mello reach the same end, filling me further, until I almost felt like it should be… unfeasible. Groaning softly, he carefully pulled out, his hands moving to stroke along my sides calmly, unintentionally spreading my own 'mess' across my body, while I made a soft mewling sort of sound, arms still tightly around him.

"I love you…" Possibly the first properly coherent words in however long, and not even just from me, unintentionally simultaneously, making both of us giggle a little. Well, I was the one to giggle, my voice a little too high from what was possibly the best thing I'd felt before in my whole fucking life, while he simply chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that actually made me feel complete. He's too perfect… Unbelievable.

Exhausted, I barely felt as he scooped me up, carrying me bridal-style to his room, before carefully sliding my body under the duvet, which I promptly pulled around me, making a warm nest to wriggle down into. So warm… I felt so happy… Mello.

He sat down on the bed, and I assume he spent a short moment smiling at my now-hidden form under the blankets, before he swung himself around to join me, moving to curl his body around me, in a way that felt loving… Protective. And fucking hell did I feel safe with him holding tightly onto me, making me feel like I really mattered.

It took me barely any time to drift off into a calm sleep, head filled with… Happiness. Just happiness. Nothing else really remained. Even the death of Light seemed irrelevant to me now. He's not my blood brother… He only ever treated me badly… Why should I care, especially now that I have someone that truly deserves my affection.

No, not a time to think of Light. Just Mello, my Mello? Or was I his? Either way… I could be happy… I let sleep take over me now, my body feeling heavy while I curled up a little tighter, smiling softly to myself.

* * *

**My second ever lemony scene... Not too awful? I hope not :D Oh yeah, this certainly isn't the end, in case you considered that thought :D As always, I shall beg for reviews, and offer cookies, and all sorts of other fun things! Hugs! Anyway. I'm done with that now :D**

**Oh yeah, a warning. I might be a bit bad at updating for a while, 'cause I also have to revise for big exams, which I happen to be taking two years early, and I'm also trying to make myself a Yuki Cross cosplay for London Expo :) Hey, message me if you're gonna go to London Expo, because it'd be so cool if I found out some random people reading this fic would be there, 'cause then I'd feel like a mini celebrity *blush* Anyway... I'm being odd now. **

**Feel free to give me ideas for what you'd like to see happen next in this fic.. Or point out any mistakes in this one... I already know what's gonna happen next chapter, but I'd be interested in everyone elses ideas too :D Yeah, I'll go away now (Y) *skips off***


	18. Trouble

**Wows, another chapter, on time too! Go me? Yeah.. I'm currently in a bad mood because my sewing machine broke while I was in the middle of making my cosplay skirt, so now I'm sewing it by hand... it's called murder, in case anyone was interested :D Oh yeah, and... my poll? PIMPIN' TIEMZ! Go vote at my poll, all my lovlies, because we all know Matt hums in a perfectly innocent way :D**

**Disclaimer - I own nothing :D**

**Warnings - All the usual stuff. And swearing. Some of that too. Don't forget the yaoi :D**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

Y'know, one of the few things I never really expected to wake up to was probably the delicious scent of Mello's skin, from the body curved around my own, and the strange, hardened patches of… something, across my hips and legs. It took me a moment to remember what had happened, a moment longer to struggle not to get horny over the thought, and an even longer moment to force myself to stay still.

I didn't want to wake up Mello, after all… Even if I did really, really want a shower… Fuck it. I can take a shower if I want, right?

Carefully, so as not to wake him, I begin to wriggle away from him, an attempt which is pretty quickly stopped when I feel his arms tightening around me, holding me back, and making me notice for the first time what can only be referred to as… Morning hard-on. Well.

Resisting the urge to make a comment along the lines of 'someone's had a nice dream', I turn around to face him, smiling a little at the cute, sleepy expression on his face. Sometimes it's hard to remember he's so much older… Well, only really when he's sleepy. Like now. So not really all that often at all, he usually seems far older… But I digress.

His hand comes up to stroke my cheek gently, pushing hair away from my forehead so he could see my eyes properly. I'm so not used to not having my goggles… Well, I should be by now, because hell knows Mello almost always sees me sans goggles, but still… It's different when he's obviously searching my eyes – soul sounds too dramatic – for traces of emotions. Though since it's me, there wouldn't be so much traces as fucking massive landslides. Oh well.

He looks pleased for a moment by what he sees, before his smile fades to a slightly more somber expression, making me wonder what's going on in that head of his… Obviously it'd be smarter to ask than just sitting here like an idiot and waiting for his to tell me, but I'm not great at asking questions. It'd probably come out to harsh and then he might be mad at me… Shit. I'm far too paranoid… But still…

"What's going on in that beautiful head of yours...?"

I jerk a little in suprise, not sure if he meant to say it out loud or not, it was so quiet. Apparently noticing my slight discomfort, he smiles, going back to lightly caressing my face. He's so tranquil… It's sort of strange… But I like it. Yeah, I enjoy peaceful moments, like these. Call me a romantic and I swear I'll tear you up. Oh well. Maybe I am, actually… I don't care. It really doesn't matter to me, not now, anyway.

I realise I've left too long of a pause before answering when his mouth makes another turn downwards, making him look… Almost miserable. I hate that… He shouldn't be miserable… He's perfect. Too perfect to be miserable. Too perfect for me? Yeah, by far too perfect for me, but I get him anyway… That's luck. Or devotion. Or anything you might wanna call it. Whatever.

"What's wrong…?" This time the murmured voice is mine, and he smiles a little. Because I'm worrying about him? I don't know. Something like that, I suppose… I don't know.

"Matt… Please, for me… Pretend like last night was our first…" his voice barely even reaches a whisper this time, and it takes me a suprisingly short time to comprehend what he means. Oh. My eyes just decided to try and tear up. Blink. Wetness _will_ get out of my eyes… Yeah. Will power for the fucking win. But he sounds so hurt… Upset… Torn? What do I say to that, anyway? It's not like I'm brilliantly tactful or anything… I don't know what to do… What do I do…

Again, I take far too long to reply to him, and with a sad smile, he sits up, muttering something that sounds like 'it's ok, I understand', before making to climb out of the bed. I do react to that, grabbing his arm and tugging him back, eyes wide and pleading. Well, I hope they were wide and pleading anyway… Either way, it seems to work.

Mello smiles, and lets me make him sit back down next to me while I squirm into his lap, body curled up and held upright by his arms. So beautiful… He's so goddamn beautiful. I'm not sure he realises it. Whatever… Oh well. It's still true. So it doesn't matter, right? Right.

There's another slightly awkward pause after Mello clears his throat, and I quickly realise I'm gonna have to say something. Oh great. Making conversation, my greatest talent. Not.

"Um… Why do you hate that Misa girl so much?" Yup, that's the best I could come up with. It's a good question though, right? Damn right it is. I still don't get why he was so furious to see her at my school… Maybe he'll tell me? If I'm lucky? I damn well hope so… I don't like being left in the dark. It sucks. Badly.

"Urgh, don't talk to me about her…"

Yeah, I wasn't expecting much more… But I really want to know… And what single thing do I have to my advantage right now? Mello's horny. Yeah, I'd so stoop that low… Just so long as I've got the fucking courage… I guess I'm not known for my incredibly ridiculous extrovert-like behavior... Still worth a shot though.

Turning around on his lap and shifting back from him a little, I let my hand slowly slide its way across his leg, moving upwards in a very, very controlled manner. Watching his expression carefully, I bite my lip, blushing a little. I guess this isn't really my sort of thing… But I could get used to it. Yeah. For Mello. Fucking definitely.

He almost immediately tenses a little, an eyebrow raising as he looks at me, as if to say 'why now?' before he suddenly frowns, trying to push my hand away. Weakly, I might add… I'm not so sure he really wants me to stop… Shit… What a weird thought…

"I'm not telling you, Matt." I have to give it to him, his tone was a lot firmer than mine would've been, but was also severely lacking in the warning and dangerous tone that was all Mello. Ah… He's almost embarrassed… Is he not used to this or something? Or was he not expecting this so suddenly? And all to get my own way… I must be going fucking loopy.

"But… Mello… Please… Please?" I suck so badly at this it's almost painful. Oh well. Worth a shot, I guess. I lean forwards, lightly licking at his throat, gaining confidence at an equally measured pace until I get to the point where I'm actually verging on massaging the tops of his thighs, my mouth working against his neck and actually leaving a few of my own slightly pinkish marks on the skin – I'm not sadistic towards Mello, thanks – while he actually seems to be struggling not to moan. And I have to say, it's pretty fun. I don't even notice when one of my hands automatically shifts to his crotch, continuing to softly move against the skin, and I rather abruptly find myself on my back, with my hands pinned down, and Mello above me, breathing hard.

"Matt…" Such a sexy voice. Honestly. That alone could make me get all hot… And probably even finish me off too… Not that I'd ever admit it to him. He already reckons it's possible, no need to inflate his ego in any way. I would love to see him try just that though… He did say… One look… His words… One touch… Shit, I'm hard. Fuck. Not now… Fuck.

He's grinning now though, one hand making its way down my chest and side, before I quickly push him away, sitting up and pulling some of the duvet up to cover my lap. "Misa?" I question, hoping my tone makes it obvious that if he spills, I'd be glad to continue his little game… Actually, I don't like the term game. Because, well, I love him. And I don't want it to just be a game. Fuck. Talk about falling hard… No pun intended.

He sighs, pulling my slightly more modest body back onto his lap and playing with my hair a little, before sighing again. "Misa. Right. Well, she's my sister." Huh. Weird shit… He's smart, and wonderful, and she's freaky and dumb. I guess he was the good kid. I hope so, anyway. I can't see him being the bad one in that pair.

"Is that why you hate her?"

"No. I hate her because… Look, you've got to remember that I honestly had nothing to do with her during all these events, ok?" Now I'm worried. "Thing is… Well. Um. How do I put this…?" He's only thinking out loud now.

"Ok. Right. When we were… younger. Our family never had lots of money. We weren't rich, but it didn't matter, right?" Why is he stalling…? Then again, it must be pretty bad if he held such a grudge against his own _sister_… "Well, when we were your age… She was younger by a year, but still, um… She got in with the wrong crowd. At school. The kids that reckoned they were 'hard' 'cause they smoked and got drunk and did drugs. And they would pay for their own… stuff. So she had to as well. Because she didn't wanna get kicked out. She was a sucker for attention."

Ouch. Drugs? Really? Damn… I don't know whether to be worried that she's a crack head, or laugh because it makes sense. Fuck. I won't laugh, obviously, it's not funny… I mean, he sounds like he thinks I'm gonna hate him after this. I bet nothing he can say would make me leave.

"So, she spent all of her own savings… And then moved onto my parent's money. And spent most of that, too. We couldn't pay rent, so we kicked her out, and I got a small job so we could stay where we were. The whole family was working then. It wasn't all that easy, but we eventually managed to work up our money again, so that was all fine."

Poor Mello… Damnit, stupid bitch…

"As far as I know, she spent the next few months crashing out at friend's houses, before she got caught up in more trouble to do with stealing drugs – stupid bitch – and I think she ended up selling her body, if you know what I mean, to pay back whatever it was she owed. But that… It got to my parents, and they were horrified. Obviously. The fucking girl was slowly driving them to insanity with her antics. I mean, they raised her well, but why wasn't she perfect?"

As much as I'd like to interject and tell him that no-one's perfect, I just… can't talk. It doesn't work. My brain isn't interacting properly now.

"It sort of… Got worse. I don't wanna go into but… My parents ended up killed. Murdered. For whatever reason. It was her fault. So I changed my name and bought this place. I was older, so I sort of… inherited the money. I guess. I hadn't seen her in about four years before she turned up at your school… I was glad when I found out she'd changed her surname. I changed my given name. I didn't want her to find me. She's stupid anyway. She wouldn't have worked it out."

I'm… I feel bad. I feel like I got a hard deal with Light… But fucking hell…

"It doesn't matter now though." His tone is rather suddenly a lot stronger, more like Mello. I like it. Sexy voice. "She's dead, so she can't do anything. Thank fucking god for that."

And just like that, his anecdote is done, and I'm left to feel various emotions for the older male. And then I realise, well fuck it if I'm gonna treat him any different. He didn't tell me this shit for pity, he told me because I wanted him to. So, he's still the same person. Yeah. Exactly the same… It doesn't matter. Because I still love him.

Shit, he's staring at me with guarded eyes now, and I'm certain he's waiting for me to say something. Shit.

"I don't care. It's her. You're you. And I love you." Simple words… From me, obviously. Because who the hell else bullshits around with words like I do? Let's face it; I didn't need the last three sentences. Or maybe I did. Maybe… Maybe. Fuck.

His face suddenly splits into an incredibly smile, and I feel rather more completed as he winds his arms around me and tugs me tightly against his chest, nuzzling my face gently with his own. He's so sweet… I really do love him. Ever so fucking much. Because he's the most fucking amazing person… Shit.

I wasn't really expecting him to get over his sad mood so fast, so I was slightly suprised when he pressed a kiss to my mouth, slowly eliciting a response, one hand curling into my hair while the other goes to run across my torso and tease my skin gently, before he pushes the duvet off my lap, his hand lightly kneading my thigh, making me squirm and groan.

"M-Mello…" There's a long pause while he simply continues, pulling my head back a little so he can lick and nip at my throat easily. Moans. That's all the fucking sound I can make, while I'd really, really like to get to the shower now… Damn am I a bastard… But shower… I don't see why Mello would object to that. Fuck, pervy thoughts. Not fucking good. Then again, I was already… hard. Yeah, I guess I'm easy, but only for him, damnit!

I can feel him smirk a little, dragging his tongue over one of the marks he probably made yesterday. It probably should've hurt… but it didn't. Ah fuck… His hands slowly move across my body, teasing me, while I struggle to regain proper thought processes, plus the ability to speak. Because that would be helpful. Shit.

I let out a slightly shocked squeak as I feel his hand brush against… me, and he immediately chuckles, making me blush a little. It's not my fucking fault… Much. Whatever.

He's already slowly stroking that particular part of my anatomy when I finally find my tongue, barely managing more than a whispery-sounding gasp for speech.

"M-Mello, sto-p…" Yup, cue on very broken up sentence, that he takes a few seconds to comprehend, before he slowly removes all contact from my body – insert sad whimper here, and yes, I did actually make that sound – looking slightly… rejected. Aw no, shit. That wasn't how I meant it. Now he's gonna think I don't wanna because of… Misa. Fuck.

"Shower…" I managed to mumbled out, eyes turning away from his intense gaze as he tries to work out what I really want, before smirking a little and jumping off the bed, grabbing my hand and pulling me against him, grinding his hips a little. Fuck. Hard. Nice. Yes. No, shower first. Yeah. Shower. Now.

Noticing my apparent distraction, he uses the moment to scoop me up into his arms and actually fucking carry me to the bathroom. He's good, I'll give him that. And even though it probably sounds kind of weird… I fucking love being held up against his body like this. I know. So sue me why fucking don't you? He's got a fucking gorgeous body, I'll enjoy curling up against it if I so wish. Fuck yeah.

He lets me down after a short moment of cradling my body – so sweet – and reaches across me to flick the shower on, ignoring it for a short while to let it warm up enough. And by ignoring it, I mean going back to molesting and tongue-fucking my mouth and throat, one hand moving to grope my ass, pulling our bodies tightly against each other and making me moan, my body shuddering a little as he continuously made his very bodily attacks on me. And fuck do I enjoy this stuff. What's your fucking point.

This went on maybe a little longer than was really needed, leaving me pretty much gasping for breath while Mello moved the two of us to the shower, almost immediately setting to work cleaning me off, his hands soft against my now rather wet skin, moving in wonderful ways while my hands sought out the wall behind me to try and grip onto so that I wouldn't collapse. Needless to say, soaking wet tiles aren't exactly the best thing to hold onto. Fuck. Just shows how much of an affect he can have on me right after he's pretty much been touching me up to his heart's content. Damnit, where did my will power go… If it was ever there in the first place.

He quickly proceeds to turn me around so he can clean my back a little, then moving to wash my hair slowly. Fuck. How can anyone feel so… Perfect? Like this? God… I swear, it feels so, so _good_… His hands are skilled, I've got to say…

This pretty much continues until we're both suitably clean – meaning pretty much immaculate – and I automatically reach to turn off the water, only to have one of Mello's hands catch my wrist, rather abruptly pushing me up against the wall of the shower, my unfortunate hand pinned against the slippery tiles with a rather unexpected strength. How the hell I wasn't expecting him to do that I don't know, but still.

I groan softly as his body moves up against mine, one dripping wet leg moving between my limbs and making me bite back another moan while he frees my wrist in favour of pressing his fingers to my hips, forcing me to grind against his leg. Damn does this seem familiar… Oh well. I have to say, there're worse ways of getting off.

Of course, I probably should've realised that wasn't actually his intention, as barely a moment after I started to really get into it, he turns me again, his hands still at my waist, slowly tracing patterns there while I focus on making sure my arms don't slip against the wall, carefully holding myself up while his hands creep to my thighs, rubbing at the sensitive skin in an almost loving way, making me blush and groan.

I can almost sense his cheeky smirk now as he shifts to nip at my neck again, nuzzling soaked hair out of his way as he does so, his lower half pressed up against mine rather closely, so I can feel each movement he makes very, very easily, causing me to actually have to force myself to stay quiet and calm, before I finally crack and allow a needy groan of his name as his hand comes to my crotch, taunting me horribly while I quite literally writhe under his touch, struggling to stay upright while his other hand snakes up my torso, aiding him in his teasing as he jerks me off, not seeming to want much more pleasure for himself. He has a fucking will of steel, I swear. Fucking incredible.

It's sort of a struggle to restrain myself for any length of time, especially while my hips are kindly jerking forwards in an attempt to get more friction from him, leaving me to be a moaning, squirming mess, everything but basic instinct stripped from my mind as he draws out the torture beautifully, forcing me to love every moment.

Fuck, such a sense of déjà vu here… Of course, this was one of my fucking night-time fantasies, wasn't it… Shit. It… feels better in reality. Honestly, it does. Amazing. How did I manage with only my own right hand for company… Fuck.

He leans forwards a little more, lightly nipping and tugging on my ear for a moment, before changing to licking, his breath hot against the side of my face, making me shiver again, his hand still moving at a painfully slow pace. "Mmm, Matt… You feel so _good_…" His tone was actually sex, made into voice, and given to him. Although, I probably should've already known that… fuck. The words literally send me over the edge, dirtying the wall in front of me a little, before the water catches up with it and kindly cleans it away. Ahh, shit, he won't fucking… stop.

I jump a little as I suddenly feel his own bodily fluids sliding down my butt and legs, slightly surprised that he got off so easily to… Well, to me, really. Shit… He's so _hot_… Damnit, fucking teenage mind. Oh well… It's all good… I've got Mello.

He groans quietly, murmuring a quiet 'see what you do to me' into my ear, before slowly moving away from me, making me whine from the loss of contact, my cheeks red from feeling the water wash him off my body softly, before brightening up a little more as he rather abruptly spins me around to kiss me, his lips moving gently against mine.

After a moment, he pulls away, smiling a little, then flicking off the water supply and pulling me from the small, tiled cubicle and grabbing a towel to hand to me. Aw, I was almost expecting him to want to clean me off, but there you go. I don't mind, so it doesn't matter. As soon as we're both dry, he steals another kiss, then catches my hand and tugs me to find some clothes.

Naturally, I instinctively grab a loose, stripy shirt and tug it over my head, finding it falls to about mid-thigh on me – Mello's, then? – before hunting down some boxers as well, not really too bothered, since I get a feeling I'm far too late to be going to school. Not that it matters. It's not like I learn much usually anyway. And still… I'm allowed to be off. I'm meant to be mourning my so-called brother's death, right? Fucking right. I dare anyone to disagree.

When I turn, I find Mello's already managed to get on a pair of his ridiculously tight leather pants that immediately make a certain part of me twitch a little, and he smirked happily, before gesturing towards the door, in the generally direction of the kitchen. "Want food, Matty?" I simply nod, cheerfully following him.

The small meal passes pretty quickly, happily punctuated with light conversation, which is pretty epic really… It's almost like we never really just… converse. Probably because I'm such a fail like that. Once we're done, I 'help' him to clean the bowls. Meaning, I stand next to him and grope him a little while he does his best to focus on what he's doing and not breaking anything. Though, he does get his own back once he's done by firmly whacking me on the ass, making me just a little and giggle embarrassedly as he growls something about my butt being nice to touch. Fuck.

It takes us a while to settle down to watch me play video games, because he seems to have a reflexive habit of feeling me up at every opportunity, which always ends up in some form of making out session where I end up straddling him and having my mouth and throat, and occasionally pushing my shirt a little out of the way to get at the skin I don't show so much.

Eventually we get to the point where I just sit on his lap playing on my GameCube and he aimlessly runs his fingertips across my legs, doing his best not to distract me, mostly because it always earns him a small growl, a pout, and a weak smack on the cheek. Actually, I don't think that really stopped him at all. Whatever.

Although, even Legend of Zelda can only keep me in a safe zone for so long before he grows bored of watching me play, leaning up to whisper into my ear to save quickly, and I turn, looking vaguely confused until I notice the look on his face. Wow. Staying home with him is interesting, I have to say… and I kinda like it, really. Beats school, anyway.

He smirks a little as I promptly save and drop the controller, wriggling round on his lap to smile innocently at him, curling my legs up onto his lap while I carefully avoid his predatory gaze in favour of lightly lapping at his shoulder and neck, hands sliding to his hips while his move to tug me more firmly against him, grinding his hips a little as soon as there's contact, and I giggle a little. Mostly because… Well, it's sort of amusing to see him like that.

He seems to disagree, making a low growling sound before pushing me down and roughly turning his attention to the now exposed shoulder. Exposed because he tugged my shirt across so he could have access to it, before moving to remove it completely, leaving me pretty damn exposed, not that it mattered.

His lips moved to mine, pulling my lower lip between his, sucking and nipping at it while I made odd, stifled groaning sounds as he did so, his arms moving underneath me and winding tightly around my waist while he released my lip in favour of pushing his tongue into my mouth, and naturally, a rather rough and wet kiss ensues, his hands searching across my torso in a way that could be described as loving, while it was all I could do to cling onto his shoulders, keeping his close as possible.

I hardly even notice the light knock on the door, followed by another, and then another, before the door slowly slides open, and two people walk in cautiously. I have a feeling that Mello sensed the presence of them, but at the same time really didn't care enough to react, instead slowly moving the two of us upright, not breaking the kiss, my legs wrapping around his waist tightly, and I just can't resist grinding a little.

There's a pretty awkward pause when one of the intruders coughs, and me and Mello stay frozen together for a moment, before he slowly removes his mouth from mine, trying to ignore the silvery string of saliva that stayed to connect us, which I blushed a little. I do that too much, frankly.

There's another horrible pause while we all stare at each other, and finally the taller, older looking trespasser guy speaks up.

"I'm Rester, this is Gevanni. We're from the social services network, and we have been informed that this was where Matt was staying." I immediately tense up, turning on a pretty hardcore glare while I stare at him. Sadly, he doesn't look all that worried. Then the dark haired guy speaks up too.

"We're afraid now that you're lacking any proper guardian, we're going to have to ask you to come with us."

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**... DUN DUN! Could it be? A real cliff hanger? NO WAIZZ! Yes way :) So anyhow XD How was that for a chapter? Not too bad? No-one's eyes are burning? Good! I'm so happy :D So anyway, I'll disappear before I start rambling on pointlessly :D **

**Oh, I hit 100 reviews exactly with my last chapter! So happy! Big glomps to all my reviewers... And especially #100, fullmoons-wings :D And um.. Any prize you want? Provided it's possible, obviously, so fanfiction, or fanart of your choice? Hugs to everyone though, and I'll disappear before I start to ramble! :D Until next time, lovlies :D**


	19. Hands In The Air

**Oh man, a late update.. I'm sorry! D: Plus, this chapter is awful and short, so I really hope no-one eats me! Honestly, things'll get better next time... Honest! Oh well...**

**Disclaimer - I don't own... well, anything other than the plot. Do I have to keep saying this? D:**

**Warnings - Um, the language of hell? Actually, he doesn't even swear that much... Oh well :D**

**Enjoy~!**

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"_We're afraid now that you're lacking any proper guardian, we're going to have to ask you to come with us."_

I swear to Zelda my heart just stopped. Only for like, a second, but it still definitely didn't work for a moment. And I'm certainly not breathing anymore. I could vaguely remember feeling pretty happy only a minute or so earlier, but now that feeling's been replaced by one of dread. Leave Mello? No. No… I can't have heard that right… It's not possible… I'm aware of his arms still around me, gently rubbing my back in an attempt to calm me down, but it's not working. I won't – can't – leave him… It's a ridiculous thought… Absolutely insane… And yet, they're standing there, slight smiles on their faces as they wait for me to jump to my feet and leave with them. Like hell that's gonna happen.

Slowly, I turn to face them, and I can feel tears trickling down my cheeks. "You want me to… to leave now? Yeah? Well where the fuck were you when _Light_ kicked me out?" I'm suddenly yelling, and I don't even remember raising my voice. Mello looks more than a tiny bit shocked, stroking my hair, rubbing small circles on my back in an attempt to calm me down.

Like fuck that's gonna work.

I'm not gonna be calm, not ever if I have to leave him… No. Maybe I'm overreacting, but it's… ridiculous… I can't leave him… It's not possible. Not now. No. The social fucktards look slightly surprised as well, struggling a little with sorting out their thoughts, I suppose.

"Now, look here Matt, how were we to know–"

"No, you look here. Your system is faulty. He's here now, and isn't it obvious he doesn't want to go? Just fucking leave it." His tone was shockingly venomous, and I was slightly surprised that the guys didn't flinch back or anything. I did a little, and he immediately turns to me, making calming sounds and pulling me closer, though his eyes are narrowed and glaring as he stares at the two guys like they're utterly repulsive.

"Well, it's not our problem if he doesn't _want_ to leave, the law says he has to. Plus, L sent us, and I'm afraid this has to be done." I got the feeling that Mello wasn't L's biggest fan about then, but they were all rather abruptly distracted by a loud crashing in the apartment beside Mello's. And I do mean loud. Like someone just fucking fell through the window and hit something. Which I suppose is possible, but as far as I'm aware, no-one lives beside us… Weird.

After a short moment of listening, everyone turns back to… Me? Or me and Mello. Whatever. I look up at him, and I guess my eyes must've been pretty freaking panicked, because he actually leans down and softly kisses me, before moving away a little. Possibly the worst thing that could've happened, I think, because next moment there's a strong set of hands around my arms, tugging me violently off the sofa. My reflexive reaction is to kick out, and I must've gotten lucky and kicked him somewhere particularly sensitive, because his grip loosened enough for me to escape from him.

The guy – Rester, I guess – stared at me in shock, trying to catch his breath from the rather sudden attack. Yeah, get me, bitches. Unfortunately, the darker haired guy quickly takes over. Gevanni? Yeah, him.

"Matt, I'm afraid this man is in a rather compromising position. If you come with us, it may be possible for him to get off with only community service, however, as it currently stands.." He trails off at the expression on my face. And then something clicks. They think Mello… Well maybe he is, I mean, I've said it enough, but I… Fuck, I love him! Surely that counts for something… Oh fuck… I get it. I'm jailbait. Well fuck that, I don't wanna leave… He's mine… Maybe more accurately, I'm his… I don't want to…

And community service? Who the fuck does he think he's kidding? Hi, genius kid here? Fucking hell… Out of pretty much nowhere, there's a quiet knock on the door, and everyone spins to stare at said door like it just grew antlers and started barking at us. Huh. Luckily, Mello takes the initiative and calls for them to come in. And look who it fucking is.

Dear little L, my _wonderful_ 'councillor'. Well fuck this. I stomp back to the couch, planting myself firmly on Mello's lap, with no future plans to get up any time soon. Or while any of them are in the room. It seems almost automatic when Mello's hands slip around me, holding my closely, in an almost protective fashion. Something doesn't feel quite right though, but I can't put my finger on it… Something about L's rather random appearance, I suppose. What is he doing here, anyway?

"Rester, Gevanni." He sounds about right, bored expression and irritating, monotonous voice, but from what I can see of Mello's face, he's smirking a little. What? Have I missed something?

"I really think it is time for you to leave. I appear to have erred somewhat in my calculations… I think it may be time we left these two." Jawdrop moment. Honestly. Did… Did L just say that? Am I dreaming? I quickly turn to look at Mello, who doesn't look quiet as amazed as me. More like he's trying to keep a grin off his face. He is succeeding… But why? I'm so fucking confused right now.

Rester recovers quicker, and immediately starts to object. "But, L, you said earlier-"

"I changed my mind. Now. Please leave, I will catch you up momentarily." He turned his blank stare to the two men, who both sighed and turned, making their way out of Mello's apartment. Wait, or our apartment? Damn, I have some questioning to do soon…

I was more than a tiny bit shocked to see them leaving, but pretty damn pleased too. Without really thinking, I wriggle about in Mello's lap, turning so that I can nuzzle into the crook of his neck and making small, happy sounds. He chuckles a little, patting my head gently, then looks up, mouthing something to L, who must've mouthed something back, since I don't hear anything, before I hear light footsteps exiting the apartment.

Mello quickly readjusts me on his lap, smiling a little. "I suppose the mood was ruined… How about you play some games while I go get us some… lunch." It's really that early? Damn… Weird. He seems vaguely surprised too, but not all that bothered, and I watch him – ok, fine, I watch his butt, happy? – while he goes from the sofa to the small kitchen, and I can hear him bustling about a little, presumably finding food. And stuff.

Picking up my GameCube controller, I flop off the couch and crawl over to the TV, crouching down beside my overly huge pile of games to pick one to play. I end up settling for Kingdom Hearts, taking the tiny disk out of its case and pressing it into the console, before lunging back to the couch and curling myself up comfortably, letting myself drift off into the strange land of keyblades and Disney characters. Damn is this an awesome game.

I have no idea how long it actually took Mello to make food, but I do know that when he returned, it was with a plate of cookies, plus a salad and steak. Awesome… Ooh, he even grabbed me a can of Red Bull! Damn am I craving that stuff now… And other things, but that can wait. Theoretically.

I grab the food, after pausing the game, obviously – I'm fighting a massive chicken, what can I say – and happily digging into the meal. Mello simply sits beside me, one arm lightly around my shoulders. I smile a little as I feel him rest his cheek against the shoulder that isn't currently housing his hand, distracting me a tiny bit, but not enough to stop me from wanting the food. Because… Well, Mello's actually a pretty damn good cook. For a guy who lives off chocolate, he sure knows what he's doing… Which is probably good, 'cause otherwise I'd probably die of malnutrition or something. Whatever.

I keep eating, doing my best not to react too much while he toys with the bottom of my shirt in an absent minded sort of why with his free hands, before moving to my thigh. Ok, does he want me to eat or not? Damnit. He's simply calmly rubbing circles onto my leg, staring off into space as though he's not even really conscious anymore. Well fuck…

Once I finish my food – I'm shocked I didn't drop any – Mello finally looks up at me, a slightly forlorn expression on his face.

"Matt, do you regret anything we've done?" Now, that I was expecting… I stare at him for a moment, presumably with an expression of suprise on my face, before I replied.

"Of course not… Mello…" He smiles a little, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'm sorry… It must've been horrible… Everything being thrown so crudely out there by those… two. I thought you might not want-"

This time I actually dared cut him off. "Would I have stayed if I thought that could be my escape? Mello, I don't wanna leave, ok?" He looks rather suddenly happier, tugging me onto his lap and nuzzling at my hair lovingly. Again; I wasn't expecting that. Not at all, but it's all good. I quickly move the plate from its rather dangerous perching place on my legs to the table, before curling myself up onto his lap.

"So… Why did L let me stay, anyway?"

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**Ohwow :O Dramatic? No? I figured not xD I didn't really like this chapter much, so no eating me please? Ah well :) Reviews are welcomed, and any thoughts as to what might happen next will be huggled :D Anyway, I'ma be off and stuff now (Y) :D**


	20. Unwell

**Oh holy 1-UP mushrooms :O Did I really get this done in time for my own deadlines? Yay! So, this is sorta fluffy and pointless, but Matt's gonna be back to school next chapter! MUA HA HA!**

**Disclaimer - Look, I don't own it, ok? D:**

**Warnings - Fluff ahead? I dunno :D**

**Enjoy XD**

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"So… Why did L let me stay, anyway?"

"Oh… Well, that wasn't L. It was his… boyfriend. Don't laugh!" The warning comes while I try to stifle a small chuckle. My weird, creepy councilor's gay? Well this is priceless. "Matt, it's not that funny, that kid just came to save your sorry ass from a fate worse than death – the foster care system. And all the other bullshit that comes with it."

I gotta say, he's got a good point. Although, it's not the 'system' I'm worried about at all. It's the idea of leaving Mello. It'd tear me apart, I swear on my Red Bull and video games it would. I don't wanna live without Mello… I mean, who the hell could live up to him now? No-one. Seriously, it's just not possible! Honestly.

"Anyway. Basically, L's little teenage lover-boy wanted to save you from a life of ultimate desolation. I mean, they're in pretty much our situation, same ages and shit, so he just didn't want L to go and fuck everyone's lives up again. They're happy together, but I think L was just looking out for you. I mean, he thinks he knows me, but honestly… You're just perfect, I could never hurt you or anything, honestly."

I have to say, that's a decent sized mini-speech. Does that mean L has vaguely pedophilic tendencies as well? Actually, scrap that, love is love, fuck all else. That's sort of overdramatic by my standards… Oh well. Who gives a damn anyway?

Mello looks slightly worried, as he seems to do a lot lately, so it take it upon myself to readjust my position so that I'm happily curled up on his lap in a way I'm starting to really get accustomed to, before leaning up to lightly press a kiss to his mouth, moving away and jumping to my feet before his hormones can take control. And then a rather wonderful idea hit me.

"Hey, why don't I make cake?" He looks faintly surprised, and I don't blame him… Last time I made cake, I ended up slamming his face in the uncooked mixture… But it should work out better this time. I mean, I shouldn't freak out if he decides my neck would make a nice lollipop. Because hey, that's just Mello all over… Trying to distract me sexually while I attempt to do something nice for him. Ah well… It's not like it matters or anything.

He nods slowly, chuckling a little, before hauling himself overdramatically to his feet and catching hold of my hand, and bodily dragging me into the kitchen. I guess it's gonna be a chocolate cake then…

* * *

I have to say, with the cake finally in the oven, I feel quite proud of myself. I mean, I braved many sexual encounters – aka Mello grabbing my ass, my crotch, kissing me, kissing various different parts of me, etc – and even managed to not kill myself slipping on spilt mixture; Mello caught me and used the opportunity to grope me quite a lot.

So, there's a cake cooking away happily, a smirking Mello and a horny me… Which can obviously only lead to one thing. Duh, tabletop making out.

It doesn't take a particularly long amount of time before we're kissing in the middle of the messier-than-usual kitchen, and less time for him to carefully pick me up and place me on the tabletop, my legs winding around his waist as my arms go around his neck, his hands resting at my hips while I struggle to bring our bodies closer. I don't do too badly, and we're almost entirely on top of the table, bodies rocking lightly against each other as I fight back – and lose too – numerous moans, my body almost entirely under the command of Mello's soft touches. Fucking sex god, that'd be him.

Of course, we're snapped out of our rather sexual daze by the timer going off for the cake. So now we have to get off the counter and get it. I realise pretty fast that I now have chocolate spread all over my ass, and as much as I wouldn't mind taking up Mello's offers to remove my pants, I figure it might be better to keep them on. For the sake of cake eating.

Naturally, my accidental spreading of chocolate all over my jeans is forgotten as the cake's removed from the oven, the sheer chocolate scent permeating the room in seconds, and obviously brainwashing Mello. I mean fuck, he's practically drooling all over it! Not that doing that would stop me from eating it… Heh. Well come on, I've had the guy inside me, who gives a shit about a bit of spit?

Anyway. Sighing, he ignores me while I attempt to tell him he needs to wait for it to cool down, instead grabbing plates and a knife and pulling both me and the interestingly chocolatey concoction towards the couch so that we can sit and devour it. Well, he'll probably do most of the devouring…

I'm proved wrong, as per usual, when he carefully slices part of the cake off between each of his own bites to carefully feed to me as well, his fingers barely brushing over my lips, but feeling like small shocks to my currently overexcited system, making my head reel and my heart lurch. Yup, teenage love syndrome. Incredibly dangerous if not treated…

Not that I'd want to stop being thoroughly and insanely in love with Mello. Hell knows, I enjoy it! How could I not… I mean, he's sexy, incredibly, and apparently infatuated with me. I don't understand it, but I definitely don't object. Who the hell would? I mean, sexy blond bombshell in leather, ready for anything at anytime. Not that I think of him like that… Actually, I'm content now, just sitting, cuddling, and pointlessly feeding each other cake and giggling. It's fun.

Hell knows, we'd probably look insane to anyone else, but that's half the hilarity of it, right? Yeah… Damn do I love this guy… Heh. We pretty much get through half the freaking cake before we finally stop, instead settling down – with me on his lap, as is apparently usual for us – to watch crappy movies on TV. Hey, we're just your average, possibly pedophilic couple.

What could possibly go wrong?

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**Ok.. I'll be honest. I'm actually running out of ideas now... so please, I'm begging! Give me ideas, tell me what you'd like to see, the fate of this fic is in your hands :O how dramatic XD But seriously D: I'm running out of inspiration fast.. D: So yeah.. Just throw ideas and thoughts at me, and maybe Matt and Mello will have more tabletop moments? XD bribery, I can't believe I've sunk so low xD**

**Anyway, I'll stop rambling now, let the rubber duckies live forever! Until next time :D**


	21. All The Wrong Reasons

**So. Here I am, on time with a new chapter! Yay! So, I'm currently in the middle of a huge FMA spasm.. Which is irrelevant, but meh :) Thanks to everyone for their suggestions, and I'm gonna use as many as possible! Seriously, I am :O Which might just kill me... Nah, I kid... I won't die. Too much :D Anyway XD Vote at my poll if you haven't already? I'll love you for it!**

**Disclaimer - I don't own much, y'know. But I own some cans of Red Bull.**

**Warnings - I dunno. Matt swears, or hadn't you noticed? :D**

**Enjoy!**

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You know, it's easy to get confused when you've spent what I believe is two days off school. Meaning, it's a shock to the system to be woken up at six in the morning in a way that's certainly not meant to be sexual. Then again, my dream was, so it still feels… good. Hell knows, it always feels good when it's Mello, even if he's only shaking me awake. Which he is. And I don't want to get up. His body's so nice and warm…

So naturally, when he moves away a little, I shift to keep stealing his body heat, and I hear a light chuckle. I force myself to open one sleepy eye to look up at him, his shape slightly blurry from my drowsy state. Sighing, I sit up and rub my eyes, while he obliges and pulls me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. It's scary how young it's possible to feel around him sometimes. It takes me a short while to get my sight back to normal, and I'm happy to curl up against him. I always feel so safe in his arms… Damn, I'm such a sap sometimes.

Either way, it doesn't matter much, right? I have to drag my ass out of bed and go get dressed for school and all that shit. Actually, I have to say, he's incredibly helpful, making breakfast for the both of us while I shower and get dressed. I guess that's what people call 'teamwork'… Weird team though, since the purpose is to get me ready in time for school. Anyway.

I manage to get ready in time, and after sorting out my hair a little so it's not quite as messy, and doesn't stick up in absolutely every direction, I get pulled into a heated kiss on my way out of the bedroom, Mello's arms softly resting around my waist as he lovingly molests my mouth. He didn't used to do this, did he? Usually it was just a quick peck on the lips… Eh, I don't care, frankly. I love how he always feels… So perfect.

After a good five or ten minutes of this, we finally manage to get out the front door, which is swiftly locked, and then make our way down to his car. I climb in once he's unlocked the doors, cheerfully pulling my seatbelt across my body and clicking it in place.

For once, the car journey doesn't go quietly, instead swapping pointless information like favourite colours, favourite animals, and all the other pointless things that aren't even necessary to know, but are nice to tell anyway. I was suprised to find Mello's favourite colour wasn't black, like the leather he always wore, but crimson. And then he explained why, making me blush the same shade as the bright hair he likes so much about me.

All in all, it was a very… interesting trip, I suppose, even if the destination was completely suckish. Fucking school… This is going to be boring as hell… Maybe I'll annoy Near a bit, just for kicks, and try and avoid fights… Oh of course, I'm allowed to be depressed and withdrawn today. After all, that fucktard who called himself my brother died. Not that I could actually give a shit, but it means I don't have to talk to most of the people, so I can go with that. Yeah.

Still, I can't help but feel that sense of foreboding settle in my stomach as I lean over to kiss him quickly on the cheek and step out of the car. He waves, before speeding off. I guess he has to go to work. Lucky sod, at least he gets to do stuff he doesn't mind so much. Huh. Either way, I'm stuck in this shithole for the next six hours of my life. Six hours that could be used much more intelligently. With Mello. Whatever.

Sighing, I manage to get to my usual space outside without too much trouble, pulling my DS out of my school bag to play while I wait for the bell to go, signalling the beginning of hell. I actually do pretty well, kicking the last Gym Leader's butt – I started the game again a short while ago, but got a little distracted by 'certain things' – and starting to make my way towards where the Elite Four are situated.

Of course, while I'm stocking up on Revives and Full Heals, the bell goes, forcing me to shut off my game and drag myself unwillingly to Registration. How much fun, telling someone you are in fact there. Fucking exciting, I know. I'm a lot more negative today… I guess I'm mad that things keep separating me and Mello? Damn, I'm so stupid sometimes. Either way, I'm not happy about this.

Of course, I manage to get through lessons, at least up until break. At which point another of the deadly tortures come into play. Near.

We both sit down the same way we usually do, in silence for a while, me taking the opportunity to eat something while he simply twists his hair between his fingers, looking bored, as usual. Once I get through my snack – chocolate, suprising, I know… But Mello said I could – he looks up, a very slightly curious expression on his face.

"Matt has been off school for a while. Is this because of Matt's brother dying?" I'm really starting to hate the way he's so dismissive about everything. Like nothing matters. I mean, sure, as it stands, I honestly couldn't give a damn, but what if he were talking to someone more sensitive? I dunno, someone that isn't me. Or him. Or L… The list continues, but you get my point.

I nod in reply, and a hint of suprise leaking into his expression.

"Oh. I thought it might have something to do with L's actions towards the two of you. I suppose it is not easy for Matt, no longer living with Mello." I almost choke myself to death in an attempt not to laugh, though my eyes must show my obvious mirth, because he frowns a little, his hand going back to viciously twisting at a single lock of his hair.

"What is so amusing, Matt?" he questions, obviously trying to understand what the fuck is going on in my head. I do love being unreadable… Of course, Mello would understand immediately, but he can read me a lot better than anyone else.

"Well… L returned and said that I could stay with Mello after all. So it was actually to do with my brother's death," I reply, doing my best not to laugh. After all, only insane people laugh when their last living relative – even if they weren't technically blood relatives – dies, right? Yeah, whatever. I'm not laughing about that, I'm laughing at his stupidity. For a genius kid, he's pretty dumb. Oh… L probably didn't tell him that part. Possibly because it wasn't L that came to my rescue… Oh well. Whatever.

* * *

Other than the incident at break, everything goes pretty smoothly. I get ignored by teachers in class, and Near's silent and thoughtful rather than talkative and annoying. So really, it wasn't too bad of a school day. Although I miss Mello… I caught myself daydreaming about him several times during lessons, and had to quickly focus my attention on something else before I started getting hard. Damn.

Although, the looks Near was giving me today were odd… Almost like he was jealous or something. Fuck knows why, all I have that he doesn't have is an incredible – older – boyfriend. And as far as I know, Near's never been interested in getting to know anyone like that. I mean damn, I'm his only friend! Aside from his brother of course, but he doesn't count. Such a creepy family…

I'm glad to find Mello waiting in his amazing car outside of school for me, smirking his trademark smirk and ignoring all the glances he's earning, seeming to focus on me as I make my way over, tugging the door open and sitting down on the leather seat.

"Hey, Matty. How would you like to go on a date?"

* * *

"Hello Near. Welcome home."

It was the same, monotonous greeting that Near received every day, and the small albino knew L would be snacking on candy and going over old case files, the way he usually did at this time. So, due to this reasoning, it was a little suprising to find him sitting beside his carbon copy on the sofa, looking like he might actually be enjoying himself.

B raised a hand in a half-wave towards the smaller child, curled up against L's side, as he usually did when he was round. That said, B was usually out around this time. He was rarely there right when Near got home from school. The young genius stared at the two for a moment, before picking up a box of blank puzzle pieces and settling himself on the ground, one leg sprawled out while the other was held tightly to his chest.

"Matt told me something rather interesting today, L." He spoke as though it wasn't interesting at all, instead like it had been mildly boring. B snickered, while L raised a non-existent eyebrow at his younger sibling.

"Oh? And what might this have been?"

"Matt said that you allowed Matt to stay in residence with Mello."

There was a long pause, Near's cold eyes meeting L's equally blank ones, while B looked on the verge of a laughing fit, running his fingers through his older copy's hair as the two brothers seemed to stare at each other as though the other would hold the answer they were both searching for. It took a moment, before both their heads snapped round to stare at the teenager that could've passed as L's twin.

"B!"

Of course, the exclamation was a little unexpected from the usually emotionless males. Of course, it was a little more unexpected from Near; B already knew that L could show emotions… Even if it happened to be under rather 'interesting' circumstances. He didn't even bother with idiotic pretences though.

"Yes, I did that. I wanted to give the two a chance, the same chance we took," he explained, wriggling himself a little closer to L, who looked a little annoyed.

"B, you don't understand."

"Of course I do! You're a hypocrite! Remind me of their ages? And ours?" B scowled, his voice snappy as he glared at his boyfriend.

"B, the fact that we share the same age difference is irrelevant. I was trying to protect Matt."

"Oh yeah? By taking him away from someone he obviously cared about? How the hell does that help him, L?"

At some point, Near had left the room, taking his puzzle with him. He hated it when the two of them argued. B was only a little older than he was, but damn did that boy have a temper. L sighed, pulling B onto his lap, slightly annoyed to find it was getting more difficult to do that. Even though B was the dominant one, L was used to the boy being slightly smaller, but they were almost identical in height and build now.

He sighed again, stroking B's hair slowly, in a way that almost always calmed the teen down.

"I simply thought that Matt could have been happier with someone closer to his own age…"

It was immediately obvious that this was the wrong thing to say, as B made a quiet growling sound.

"Do you think I'm not happy with you? L, I've never been happier, why did you have to go and try to break them up like that? I thought Mello was your friend!"

The dark eyed adult gently kissed the top of B's head, doing his best to silently calm the teen down a little before he replied, his tone suprisingly soft for a guy that spent most of his time sounding like he had absolutely no feelings towards anything.

"B, I can assure you that what I was trying to do had both of their best interests at heart. However, you went and did what you did, and there isn't much that I can do now, alright? So how about we just forget about it?" The suggestion was relatively well justified, so B just pouted, focusing red, haunting eyes on the wall opposite, folding his arms across his chest like a sulky child.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say," he mumbled, bottom lip sticking out and trembling a little in a cute way.

"… You might've been right about not letting them be separated. It might be for the best that you intervened. Is that what you wish to hear?" L questioned, rolling his eyes as the teen's face suddenly split into a wide grin. He did always like to hear that he was right and L was wrong. Especially when he believed that his own actions were for the good of everyone involved, which frankly wasn't very often. He wasn't really the type to try and help people.

B smirked, leaning up to lightly press his lips to L's, his arms winding around the man's neck.

"Honestly L, you should have more faith in me. Matt can manage himself, just like I can manage myself."

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**KERPOW! Did anyone expect my random POV change? No? Awesome! :D Cookies of every sort to all my wuffly reviewers, and lots of hugs too! Yay! Um.. Any more ideas are of course welcome, and I'd love to hear what people think, as usual. Have a nice day.. morning, evening, afternoon, night, whatever xD Until next time :3**


	22. Cloud Nine

**Holy 1-UP mushrooms, this is a late update D: But... It's been torture. Not the chapter, but.. MY INTERNET ROUTER! Yeah. It's not been working at all, which means.. no internet for five days. Oh. My. Holy. Yaoi. It's been murder! Honestly! I has missed my Maddeh-chan and my Shinigami-chan D: And I also missed my update deadline.. And being a little OCD about that, it's been killing me. My wonderful little Mello was kind enough to beta this chapter for me, for which I shall be eternally grateful. Yeah. Anyway. Um... I'm very sorry for being late, and I'll try not to let it happen again. Unless it's beyond my own control. Anyway.**

**Disclaimer - I don't own BT. If I did, this update wouldn't be late. Oh yeah, I don't own Death Note either :)**

**Warnings - OH NO! There's.. BAD LANGUAGE! Run away! No, but seriously, it's not that bad XD**

**Enjoy~!**

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"Hey, Matty. How would you like to go on a date?"

I probably looked slightly more than shocked, judging by the way he laughed in a slightly nervous way, immediately mumbling about how if I didn't want to, obviously we didn't have to, before he was silenced – not by me kissing him, pervert – by an overly enthusiastic hug, that involved me launching myself at him from my seat, ending up sprawled across his lap in a way that was actually rather comfortable.

"I'd love to go on a date!" Maybe my voice was too light and lovey-dovey-like, but who the fucking hell cares? I'm going on a date! My first date? My first date… My first date with Mello, and that made it all the more important, naturally.

I hardly noticed him chuckling brightly as he revved up the car, setting off away from the school without bothering to tell me to put my seatbelt on, or even trying to remove me from his lap. Then again, I suppose he knew as soon as the vehicle was moving, I'd right myself and get my ass strapped safely into the car. Because fucking hell, he drives at breakneck speed. No kidding. He's lethal; I wouldn't wanna get caught in the middle of the road with him coming at me.

Not that I expect he'd actually try and run me over or anything. I mean damn, I trust him with my fucking life, no matter how shitty and cliché that may or may not sound. Whatever. I'm going on a date!

Sorry, but seriously… I've had a physical relationship with him and all, but it's fun to just go out and chill… No idea where we're gonna be going though… I'm not exactly pro where these things are concerned, you know? Yeah.

I'm startled out of my daydreams of Mello, me and Mello, and Mello by the car skidding to a stop, and I look up, almost laughing at where we were. The cinema. No fucking way. Somewhere we can cuddle, and eat junk and chocolate. Pretty much works for both… Maybe he thought this through? Maybe. Either way, I'm kinda hoping I get to enjoy the movie without being felt up _too_ much. Just a little, I can manage with, but I don't wanna get completely distracted.

That said, it is Mello… So I probably don't stand too much of a chance. Oh well.

Either way, we're joking and laughing as we enter the building, and I realise he must've picked up tickets for us both earlier. So it wasn't just a random, spur-of-the-moment thing… He's so sweet. Seriously. Maybe he spent some of his time planning…? Oh fuck knows, who cares? He has a job, and yet he still comes and picks me up and does lovely stuff for me… Fucking angel. Seriously.

I look up in suprise as he grabs my hand, dragging me to the shelving that holds all the candy. He suddenly looks stupidly childish, examining each chocolate-based item carefully, before finally deciding on a couple of things that do actually look pretty good. He's fucking lucky to be able to stay as perfectly slim as he is, I gotta say. Then again, I suppose it's the same for me. I mean, I live off of junk and energy drinks, but I manage to stay skinny and active. Well, active-ish. Not like Mello, admittedly, but I'm getting there. I can definitely keep up with the dancing better than I used to be able to.

Mello checks his watch – when did he even get one of those? Or am I just unobservant? – and suddenly gasps. "Damnit! Late!"

And from this, coupled by the sudden, violent tugging on my wrist and hurried throwing of money onto the counter, I can safely say that we may just be a few minutes late into the movie. It's sorta funny how annoyed he is at this… Although, my hand isn't finding it very funny. I mean, all my fucking circulation's been cut off! And it's not the greatest feeling, either! Fuck!

It takes him a while – read as 'until we get our butts planted in front of the cinema screen, at the very back' – to realise my hand might be hurting a little, and he immediately releases my wrist, fingers stroking lightly across my palm before he brings my hand up, in a way that makes me think he's just gonna stare at it a little. So I'm kinda happy… And stuff… When he gently presses soft kisses across the back of my hand and wrist. He's… Ok, fine. He's damn fucking sexy. So what? I like it. A lot.

Of course, despite the fact we've already missed the beginning, we obviously have to follow up the light touches, which ended up with me practically in his lap while he forces me to submit to his slightly less innocent kisses, nipping and gently tugging at my lower lip while I struggle to remain quiet, his hand keeping our bodies safely together, and also conveniently placed on my ass, which obviously aids him in his quest to make me the horniest being on the planet at this exact moment in time. And he's not doing so badly, either. I swear, if we weren't in public I would be _screaming_ for… Actually, no details needed there. Already need him. Yeah.

And naturally, this means that I get carefully pushed back into my seat, and forced to sit through about half an hour of movie. Forced meaning, Mello refused to partake in any activities, even though I went to the trouble of trying my damndest to make him.

This basically translates to me gently rubbing his thigh barely a centimetre away from where I can fucking _see_ him practically _throbbing_, snuggling up closely and nipping, sucking and kissing at the sensitive spots on his neck, and even full-out groping him. And all he does is moan huskily, which makes me even fucking harder, if that's possible now, before pushing me back out of his personal bubble, leaving me horribly unfulfilled. Why the hell choose now to keep his hands to himself? He's got determination made of motherfucking steel, I swear.

After a little while, when I realise that will power and focusing on the movie isn't going to help at all, I stand up, hissing about going to the loo, before stomping out of the screening area to the toilets, not even aware of Mello following me until I feel another body pressing into the cubicle with me.

Pretty quickly, I'm pressed tightly against the cubicle door, Mello grinding into my ass hard and letting out low, throaty groans as he does so.

"I thought… You'd be able to focus if I gave you a bit of what you wanted… And here I thought we'd have a nice, calm little date…" he murmured, voice rough, into my ear, before setting about molesting that particular area of my body too, hands sliding around the front of my jeans to grope me, while I have down hard on my lower lip to stop myself from yelling, or moaning too loudly.

It doesn't take too long before I violently mess myself, and I can tell by Mello's groans that I'm not the only one, either. Dry humping for the fucking win? Whatever. It takes us a moment to clean up and catch our breath, before we both sneak out, glad that no-one was around to watch us exit together. I go to wash my hands at super speed, noting the probably very visible heat in my cheeks. My dear blond boyfriend merely chuckles, looking as immaculate as ever. I don't know how the fuck he does it. Honestly.

"Sorry if I'm too much for you, Matty," he murmurs, his palm lightly stroking across my face and along my jaw, before grabbing my hand and dragging me back to the movie we were meant to be watching. Damn. I need to learn to control myself better… But seriously, it's Mello's fault for getting me worked up and then not helping me straight away. That would've been easier, by far. Oh well. I've fucked up one date…

He doesn't look upset at all though, instead he looks stupidly happy, a wide grin on his face as we sit back down, pulling me onto his lap and focusing his eyes onto the screen. I quickly follow suit, leaning back against him as he winds his arms around me lovingly. Now it feels more like a date. Much better. Yeah.

That said, I could easily look like his little brother, or even his kid, if someone was really cruel over ages… Shit, how did that never come into my head before? Fuck. Whatever. I suddenly feel really self conscious, but more in that way where you feel like someone's staring at you really hard. Shrugging, I go back to paying attention to what seems to be the end of the movie.

There're a couple of guys up on the stage at what seems to be a freaking huge party, and the image goes from his face to this girl in the crowd. Damn, a chick flick then? What the hell? Maybe I should've been paying attention instead of getting busy with Mello… Damn. He is very enticing though… Shit, bad thoughts, fuck off! Damnit… I hate my automatic bodily reactions to all things that are blond, leather-wearing, chocolate-eating _him. _This is what I may just have to call hormonal torture. Yeah.

By the time we're out of food and out of the cinema, I'm still clueless as to what movie we just went to watch, but it doesn't really matter, because… Well, it was time with Mello. Hell, you could force me to watch a horror movie marathon and I wouldn't even notice all the gore (ew) with my Mello in the room. Seriously. He's just that motherfucking wonderful.

Anyway. We manage to make it home safely, and Mello chuckles quietly as I immediately make a beeline for my games consoles. Hey, these little darlings have been abandoned. They need love to, you know! I settle for Mario Galaxy, just because… I'm in the mood to make short Italians jump from mini-planet to mini-planet. Seriously, they're so tiny! If you took Mello's apartment and curled it round a ball, that's how big it would be. I mean, it must be so disconcerting…I'd be scared shitless if it were me. Then again, Mario would probably be programmed not to be scared shitless. Ah, the life of a game character. Wonderful.

Mello wanders off somewhere, but returns relatively soon with a can of Red Bull – my saviour! – and a bar of chocolate, laying an arm casually across my shoulders and letting me lean a little against him.

I love life when people aren't messing it up.

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**Not too bad, I hope? :D Um.. Review, maybe? Heh, either way, I apologise again for being late [I say sorry too much :D] and um.. Yeah. I have another exam tomorrow, but it's the last for this year, so YAY! :D Anyway, have a nice day/evening/morning/night :D**


	23. Vanilla

**Ok, so I guess this is a sort of rushed update.. But meh. Tis all good. I mean, at least I got it up today ^^ There might be errors and stuff, but hopefully not :D**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Death Note D: Stop rubbing it in, why don't you T_T**

**Warnings - Um.. Language? :D**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

The next few school days were just an inadequately boring as ever, making me want to whack my head repeatedly on the desk. Unluckily for me, the bruises from being thumped in the face by whoever it was – either my 'brother' or his fucked up, high-as-a-kite girlfriend – still hurt, so that would probably cause me a lot of goddamn pain. Shit.

I finally get through the school day, only to remember something quite vital. I've got dance lessons today. Which means that Mello is kind enough to pick me up, take me home to get changed, and fetch me some Red Bull from the fridge while I'm busy doing that. Ah, my wonderful angel-boyfriend. I'm gonna go with 'boyfriend' now I think, since we sort of went on a date and stuff. You know. Anyway, it's easier than getting confused every time I think about it. So meh.

He looks in an almost scarily good mood as he drives at probably illegal speeds to get to the studio place thingy, all the while with his arm thrown casually across my shoulders. I swear, he's gonna get us in a crash some day… It'll probably not be any time soon though, his senses are fucking _sharp_. Seriously. I've learnt just how attentive he is when it comes to chocolate, at any rate. I mean, he lets me have some sometimes… If I 'share' it with him. Meaning, if he's allowed to steal pieces directly out of my mouth.

I yawn loudly – hey, I'm a gamer. I don't get much sleep – and crack open my Red Bull can, earning myself a warning look from Mello that clearly states the amount of dead I'm going to be if I get any of my drink on his upholstery. Damn. Then again, I guess this stuff must've been pretty expensive… Eh, whatever. I'm hardly gonna waste my elixir, so he needn't worry. Meh.

We get to the studio place in record time, and I quickly set about creating myself a little corner of space at the edge of the area we usually use to dance in. I notice Mello pushing a CD I don't recognise into the CD player, grinning at himself as he does so, which makes me wonder about what exactly I'm gonna be dancing to. Probably nothing particularly innocent, but then again, what's new? I'm pretty much certain I'm gonna have fun, so it really doesn't matter.

As usual, people don't slowly filter in, but all burst in loudly, in a massive group of bodies, almost crushing me in my small space. Hell, I even fucking get trodden on, since I'm currently sitting on the ground with my energy drink. Mello quickly calls everyone over, and once they've all ditched their stuff around the edges, they oblige, leaving me free to amble over, pouting a little over my now-hurting toe.

He explains something about the music, which I naturally ignore in favour of getting a good look at his ass. He's wearing really tight black jeans today, along with a simple black button-down shirt. And frankly, I think he could do without the shirt. I'm sort of surprised he's not wearing leather today… Then again, he did have a pretty tight-looking leather jacket on in the car here. So maybe that makes up for his lack of other leather clothing. Maybe.

I vaguely recognise the music that comes on, but that might just be my head and memory messing up, as per usual. Meh. It's Japanese music, anyway. I can tell by, oh I don't know, the singer maybe? Yeah.

He shouts some instructions – again, I'm too busy ogling his butt to actually listen to him speaking – and everyone separates into their usual pairs. I immediately feel hands against my thighs, pulling backwards into a soft, warm body that I'm starting to recognise really, really well. "Shall we dance?" The way he says it is almost teasing, and I guess that's probably because I don't exactly have a choice in the matter.

I almost groaned out loud as he ground his hips against me, his hands gently guiding my body as I simply struggled to keep myself silent. I was so used to just being able to loudly react to him… Damn. I swear, this is gonna drive me fucking up the wall…! I'm not built for this at all! Well, maybe I am, but still!

I slowly relaxed into the music, and quickly find its one hell of a lot easier not to get hyped up on hormones when you're playing the same game. I mean, dancing. Whatever.

It's almost scary how fluidly I'm capable of moving now… Then again, it might just be Mello. I'm far more comfortable with him now than I was to begin with. Seriously. He's a lot easier to figure out now; it used to be that I couldn't work out what was coming, so I never knew quite how to move myself, but now that I know his patterns better, it's a lot easier. Yeah. Get me, I'm so fucking epic with words. Heh.

I'm naturally tired out and horny – pft, have you met my hormones? – by the end of the 'lesson', so I curl up on the ground with my Red Bull to wait for everyone else to filter out so I can have Mello to myself again.

I stood up to make my way over to him, before I froze, getting slightly distracted by the small matter that was his sudden lack of shirt and a small towel draped over his shoulders. It looked kinda wet – probably to cool him off? Come to think of it, I've never stayed after lessons before… Hm. He finishes off whatever he was doing and removes the towel, rubbing his torso over a little bit before dropping it to the floor.

I smile absently as he tugs a different T-shirt over his head (still black and tight though) before turning to me and winking.

"Like you what you see, Matty? You don't have to ask, you know…" he murmured invitingly, placing a hand on his hip, a wicked smirk in place, eyes sparkling mischievously. "You know you want to…."

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**So, no-one's eyes are bleeding? I see some smexings coming up next chapter.. :D Heh XD Anyway, how was that? It's quite short, but I don't hate it xD Reviews, maybe? Thanks to everyone that's already reviewed, it makes me feel so warm and fluffy inside! :D Fun fun fun ^^ Anyway, have a nice day/night/etc :D**


	24. The Quest

**Again, a kind of lame, shortish chapter. Damn me TT_TT but in my defence... I've been busy. A lot. I had a science case study that I had to do, and me and my friends were messing around tons today at my place :D Me and Mello got married, I'm gonna edit the videos ASAP if anyone's interested in my cosplaying and general crackish behaviour? XD We even got wedding rings xD admittedly, overall the wedding cost us about a tenner [the rings were half of that, the other half was part of my.. ahem, outfit. Meaning, guy's underwear XDD] Anyway. That was fun, and at least I'm updating? I promise the next chapter will be longer, since I believe most of my distractions are gone now, and I should be able to write more often, so maybe it'll be better. And not as rushed.**

**Disclaimer - yeah, fine, I don't own Death Note D: **

**Warnings - smexings, but they're not that good.. I may redo them, and if so I'll tell you that I have in the next chapter, okies? :D also, some language and whatnot :)**

**Also! Please vote at my poll, it's on my profile :D Enjoy~!**

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"Like what you see, Matty? You don't have to ask, you know…" he murmured invitingly, placing a hand on his hip, a wicked smirk in place, eyes sparkling mischievously. "You know you want to…."

It's not that I have no willpower… But how the hell would anyone resist something like that? I mean, there's a fucking sexy _god_ in the room, giving me permission to… well, touch him. What's not good? What I'm not so sure about… Is why he just put a T-shirt on. That should be off. Now.

He seems to realize this, and pulls it back over his head, showing off his body nicely as he stretches to remove it completely, before taking a few steps towards me, still smirking in that dangerously hot way of his. I think I'm pretty much frozen to the spot – does this count as public, anyway? – and I only really jerk back to life when I feel him take my hand and press it against his chest. He's… Strong? Well built, definitely. I'm gonna go with sexy. It's easier right now.

He releases my hand, but I keep mine where it is, slowly moving to gently caress the skin I've been offered, leaning up to catch his mouth in a light kiss, which is immediately deepened when he wraps his arms around me, forcing our bodies closer despite the two hands I've still got on his body. It doesn't really matter, anyway. He seems to like it.

We kiss for a while longer, steadily become less and less innocent. When we finally move back a tiny bit for air, I find myself rather suddenly pushed up against a wall – when the hell did we move? – and having my neck exuberantly molested, tongue and lips working wetly across my neck and the part of my shoulder that's visible. I groan a little, and he looks up, still smirking.

"Oh Matty… I'd tell you to keep it in your pants, but it's not as much fun that way, is it?" he murmured against my skin, making me shiver a little at the words, before suddenly moaning loudly as he reaches down to grab me. As in, my pants. Specifically, my crotch. Oh.

I lose most coherent thought as we move to the floor, which was probably good as my legs would've given in soon anyway. Mello must've gotten rid of my shirt at some point, but I don't really have any recollection of it, more just noticing in passing as he sets about attacking my chest, attention focusing momentarily on a nipple, making me moan rather sharply, before setting about licking and nipping at the rest of my chest, hands fumbling with my belt.

I would've tried to help, but he was still cheerfully going at my shoulder and the side of my throat vigorously, and certain parts of me were deciding to be very, very happy at this. It didn't help that he kept _touching_ me while he was removing my belt, making my hips jerk a little each time. He's… Words evade me right now. I'll think of a good one to describe him at some point… Maybe.

I kicked off my shoes as he finally got round to teasingly removing my belt and hooking his fingers into the belt loops of my jeans instead, tugging a little and making them slide a short way down my hips, consequently causing friction in the more solidly aroused area of my body and making me let out an odd mewling sound in response.

He continues to slowly slide my trousers down my legs until he finally gets them off, leaving me in boxers that do absolutely nothing to pretend I'm not hopelessly turned on by… Well, by him, really. He seems to approve though, lightly running a single figure across the front of my boxers, making me shudder and my hips jerk to try and get more.

"Ah, Matt… What am I going to do with you?" His tone sounds slightly mocking, but I ignore it in favor of whimpering quietly for him to get the hell on with it. And he sort of does. Well, he places his hand more directly on me, and I automatically thrust against his palm, squeaking a little as he pushes me back against the wall again, lips covering mine and his tongue immediately taking advantage of the small sound I made to invade my mouth, teasing small responses out of me.

I moan quietly once he lets me breath again, his palm rubbing against the front of my boxers in a horribly slow way, making me wriggle and arch in an attempt to get him to either speed up or get the hell out of his own clothing. Admittedly, I wasn't doing much to help along the latter, but maybe he got the point. I damn well hope so.

He suddenly removed all his contact, making me whine a little at the loss of… touching. Maybe I'm just perverted. Whatever.

"Matt, I did say you were allowed to touch, didn't I? Come on Matt, you can deal with my pants… Right?"

This was followed by a pretty awkward pause, before I slowly reached forwards, fighting with his dangerously tight clothing for a short while before I managed to get the material off his body. While I managed that, he got rid of the remainder of my clothing for me, making me blush a little as he openly stared at me. I wish he wouldn't do that sometimes… Only sometimes though. The way his expression goes… It's just perfect. Hell knows, he's fucking perfect.

I'm too busy revering his entire being to realize that something was expected of me, but a not-so-casual touch bought be right back to the present situation; I'm horny, he's horny, and I think we both want to do a little more than stare at each other right now, as wonderfully cliché as that may be.

He continues to lightly tease and stroke my arousal, distracting me quite effectively from the rather uncomfortable feeling of his fucking fingers happily fucking my ass. Not all at once to begin with, but he seems in a bit of a hurry, making me squirm a little in discomfort. Still, I'm hardly complaining. Not that I could, since his mouth once again finds mine in a sloppy, uncoordinated meeting of tongues and lips, me barely bothering to try and kiss back, panting loudly, and him just happy to tongue-fuck what he can reach.

It takes me a little while to get used to the feeling of his fingers actually in me again, before he rather abruptly removes and replaces them, making me squeak a little in shock before groaning a little as his hand on my fucking _cock_ distracts me a little. Well duh. I expect he probably figured that might make things easier. Maybe not make me relax as such, but make it more bearable.

And then he moves his body a little against mine, readjusting his position just a tiny bit, making me groan as I finally get used to being so filled again. I swear, I'm gonna have to be off school again to I don't have to explain my limping. But fuck knows it's worth it.

He slowly starts up a pace, his movements gentle despite his eagerness previously. My whole mind blurs itself out with each movement, while I groan quietly, increasing in volume as he speeds up little by little. My head lolls forwards onto his shoulder, my arms clasped tightly around his torso, back arching away from the wall in an attempt to put less space between us.

It feels like a very short time before I'm gasping out my release, making him groan as well as I feel myself filled up further, our sweaty bodies still pressed deliciously together, his hand still lazily pumping me, not really seeming all that focused, until I start to squirm. I have a feeling that if we do this again right now, I'll end up more completely knocked out that I would be if we didn't.

He carefully removes himself, grabbing the still slightly wet towel from wherever it was that it had been dropped, setting about cleaning both of us off before indicating our clothes, smirking a little.

"Damn Matt, I only said you could touch, no need to get carried away…" His tone is teasing, and makes me flush a few shades deeper and throw a friendly punch at his shoulder.

"Oh, quiet. You know you liked it anyway," I reply, not really paying much attention, since I've managed to get my boxers and jeans back on despite my jelly-like legs. Jelly-like legs which are not helped by the arms curling around my body from behind, Mello obviously still shirtless.

"Oh… Yes. Yes I did… Matt, I'm not sure you quite… Understand…"

His breath rushed across the back of my neck and my ear, making me shiver a little and making him smirk knowingly, lips descending to tease and play with my earlobe. Squeaking in surprise, I make an attempt to remove myself from where I'm pressed tightly to his chest, and fail rather epically. He's really damn strong. Or I'm weak. Either way.

I can feel myself reacting pretty fast to his fucking actions, making my hips shift back a little, despite the slight ache that I really should've anticipated.

"Hey, we should get back… I mean fucking hell Mello, I'm starving!"

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**Yeah, still short, but I'll definately work harder next time! And that's a promise! *heartheart* Reviewers make me feel fluffy and warm and inspired! And some ideas might be nice... I'm considering an idea that sounds quite interesting to me currently :) Anyway, have a nice day and all! And I'll be back, same time next week, if I'm good :D**


	25. Caramelldansen

**Yay! A new chapter! Ok, so pretty soon, I'm going away on holidays :O Yeah, plural! Ok, so next week I'll update as normal, then I think that... the next weekend should be fine.. and then I'm going to France, and I'll be getting back late Sunday, but I'll have to post then because on Monday I'm heading off to America with Mello for two weeks! Whew, I'm gonna be so jetlagged when I get back XD But if there's no internet there, I'll be posting as soon as I get back! Wow I just spoke a lot XD Anyway :D**

**Disclaimer - Blah blah I own nothing blah**

**Warnings - Um.. bad language? LE GASP!**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

"Hey, we should get back… I mean fucking hell Mello, I'm starving!"

Mello sighs exasperatedly. "Matt, you're just unbelievable," he mutters into my ear, before releasing me and moving away to finish redressing himself. I simply look embarrassed and feel bad becauseI really need a shower. Damn. But I feel crappy now, like I've upset him. Just… shit.

"What would you like to eat?"

I barely even register the question, slightly distracted by my growing depression that was centered on how I was sure that I'd managed to hurt his feelings. Damn.

I didn't realize tears must've started to well up in my eyes until he was in front of me, gently dabbing at my cheeks with his fingertips, expression soft.

"I never took you to be the kinda guy that would get emotional after sex," he states, looking slightly surprised. I swear; he's so blunt about things sometimes. Huh. I simply shrug, trying to look away, but he catches my face between his palms and forces me to keep looking at him. "Hey now, I never meant to make you feel that I was trying to force you into things… Well… Oh whatever, you know what I mean. Look, my point is, I was wrong to assume I knew what you wanted. Sorry."

I look slightly shocked. He thinks I didn't want him? I just want to be able to get home without passing out… Oh, I'm so confused. Damn my teenage hormones to hell. Naturally, I do the only thing I can think of. Which is to hug him and attack his face and neck with kisses. Wow I'm a sappy bastard sometimes.

Now it's his turn to look shocked, not entirely sure what the hell was going on, I suppose.

"Mello, I'm just tired and hungry, 'kay?" I squeal – again, damn teenage hormones making my voice go funny – holding tightly onto him, making a point of refusing to let go, even when we both topple to the ground, badly overbalancing from my onslaught.

He simply chuckles a little, stroking my hair as I continue to hang onto him, making it impossible for us to stand up. This carries on for a few minutes, making me feel very much like a little kid again. I think he made a point of referring to me as a puppy while I was glomping and kissing him. Huh. Kinda truthful, given the circumstances, I suppose.

It's nice to feel young for once, sometimes I feel like everything's just starting to go mentally out of control and all that crap… Still, it comes to an abrupt end when my stomach decides to grumble loudly, and I am immediately hauled to my feet and dragged – after I'd picked up all my stuff – from the studio to the beautiful sound of promises of food. And lots of it.

And this was how we found ourselves outside of some random place that was kind enough to sell about a million different types of pastry foods, both savory and sweet. Fucking. Awesome. It's a small store, but there were a number of tables and chairs outside, so once we got our food and drinks (sausage roll and Red Bull for me, chocolate muffin and Cola for him) we went to sit at one of those. Even though it's starting to get pretty late, it's still nice and warm, and there're still a number of people wandering around.

Despite this, very few people were actually going in and out of the little shop we were just in, most people simply hurrying by. Actually, I stop noticing after a little while because I get completely distracted, in conversation with Mello. It was really just idle chatter, but I don't notice there was anyone else around until two people suddenly joined our table, their voices familiar as one chastised the other for interrupting.

Looking up, I instantly recognized the twin faces, one with a cheerful grin and red eyes – wait, what? Red eyes? – and the other looking completely blank, with maybe a hint of a pout on his lips. Or perhaps that's just my imagination.

"Mello, what a pleasant surprise." L's voice is monotonous, as per usual (apparently) and I couldn't help but notice that I am left out of the greeting. Mello seems to notice too, and promptly threw an arm round my shoulders.

"Yeah, same to you," he replies, immediately being pulled into a conversation that I can't be bothered to listen to, instead moving to focus onto B instead. He's staring at me with those weird-ass eyes of his anyway.

"Hey Matt, how's it going?" he questions brightly, sounding pretty much opposite to his older counterpart, his voice bubbling full of energy. I shrug a little, tearing off a bit of my roll and doing my best to ignore the fact that he just stuck his hand straight into a pot of jam. Ew.

"Yeah, not too bad, thanks. So um… What're you two doing here?" B shrugs this time; sucking his fingers clean and removing them from his mouth with a gross, wet sort of popping sound.

"Oh, y'know. L wanted something sweet and he'd already cleaned the house right out. So we went out, and here we are!" I nod slowly, before smiling. I have to say; I prefer this kid to L. L's just creepy. No fucking joke.

We both finish off our food in silence – it's scary how fast that guy can eat jam, seriously – while the two 'grown-ups' chatter about hell knows what. B rocks back in his chair, looking faintly suprised when L's arm goes around his shoulders and tugs him back down. I'm vaguely aware that Mello is still holding onto me in much the same way, and I let my head fall against his shoulder.

It's frankly pretty weird, seeing another couple acting the same way that Mello and I did, especially in the exact same circumstances… Really fucking weird actually. Damn.

All of a sudden, my happy daydreaming – ok fine, explicit fantasies – were interrupted by louder speech.

"Well, B and I ought to be getting back now; we wouldn't want Near to worry." B nods, looking bored.

"Eh, the albino puffball probably won't care either way," he mutters, earning himself a light cuff round the head from L. Possibly the most violent thing I've ever seen the guy do. Seriously.

"Fine, fine, I'm sorry you're related to him, ok? Don't bother starting your rant about how I shouldn't insult those who're allowing me to live with them, because you know you'd never kick me out. Let's go." He grins, turning to me and holding up two fingers – the peace sign. I return the gesture, smiling as he grabs hold of L's arm and cuddles up against him while they walk off.

Mello smiles; pulling me closer and gently kissing my forehead. "We should get home too, Firehead," he murmurs, using his old nickname for me. I simply nod.

"L and B are happy together… Aren't they?" For a moment, he looks a little surprised at my question, before nodding as we stood up.

"Yeah, they are."

"I'm happy too. With you."

* * *

**Oooh, it be fluff? :D Hee hee... Oh well :) Um, thankies to the two whole people that reviewed me last chapter.. The fact that at least someone did makes me happy ^^ Yay, I sound stupid :D Ah well, maybe some more reviews this time? Pretty please? :D I'll give you all cookies :D Plus, I need inspiration if I'm gonna be away soon! So give me ideas! :D And do my poll if you've got the time? :)**

**Au revoir! Lmao, I spoke a different language XD**


	26. Weightless

**Wahey, another chapter! And also.. the last day of my sanity. Ok, so I've realised that while I'm in France, I have to write two chapters.. because I'm leaving on Friday! Nuu! So basically.. My uploading is going to die. Or I'll upload it early, since I finish school on Wednesday.. Anyway. I'm gonna say a massive thanks to my straight, male friend Neko for being wonderful enough to beta this for me, even though yaoi isn't exactly his cup of tea.. he's wonderful :D yay! Anyway... Yeah :D Vote on my poll? :)**

**Disclaimer - I don't own Death Note, or Mario, or Kleenex.. you get the point :D**

**Warnings - Yaoi, w00t w00t XD Umm... Oh yeah, and it's Near's turn to develop his character D: OH NO! XD**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

I quite literally bounce into school the next day, disregarding all the school laws that say I should be quiet and introverted. Hell knows why I'm in such a good mood… Ok, so it was probably something to do with Mello. And how he kissed me and murmured something about loving me before I left. Sure, it might also have something to do with the fact that I drank… Seven cans of Red Bull last night and then went to sleep before it had a chance to kick in. Either way, I'm happy.

Of course, Near's his usual ray-of-fucking-sunshine self.

"Matt appears to be too happy. Is this to do... with you and Mello?"

His tone was slightly less monotonic than usual… I couldn't quite place the added emotion that was there, but he didn't sound too happy about something. Hell knows what, but whatever. I simply shrugged in response, stretching my arms out above my head.

He sighed, one arm wrapped around the leg held to his chest in his usual sitting position. "I heard you ran into B and L as well," he murmured, his voice a whole lot colder than usual. Again, I shrugged.

"Yeah, B's pretty cool. L's still kinda creepy though." Near just scowled – he sucks at looking annoyed, he's usually so emotionless – adverting his eyes and pulling a toy car out of his school bag, placing it on the floor and pushing it around a little.

"I find them both very nice, thank you," he said, tone slightly more snappy than usual. I wonder what the hell got on his nerves this morning to piss him off so much that he's actually showing emotion. "Though.. I don't understand Matt and B's reasoning for choosing their respective partners… Maybe Matt could try and explain this." I looked surprised. Near doesn't understand something? Weird.

"I dunno. I ended up with Mello by chance." Not the most helpful response. "And I ended up liking him a lot. It's funny the way things turn out…" My voice became quieter, more to myself, on the last sentence, and he stared at me blankly for a moment.

"So really, there is no logical reason for Matt to like Mello?"

I scowled. Near's really starting to piss me off today. Like, seriously. After a short moment of him staring at me with those creepy eyes (they look the same as L's) I just huff and turn away, pulling a can of Red Bull out of my bag. Yeah, I've got a near never-ending supply of the stuff, but so what. I finish the can just as the bell goes, chucking it into a trashcan as I wander past it. Near still seems to be sulking, so I don't bother trying to talk to him.

The rest of the day passes without incident; me and Near don't talk at break or lunch, so there weren't any arguments or anything. Which was cool. I hate it when he starts picking holes in everything, it really pisses me off. Lousy albino brat. I suppose me and B would agree on that… He didn't seem to be Near's biggest fan, for whatever reason. Other than that, school was just… boring. As per usual.

The car trip back home was pretty quiet too; Mello had a chocolate bar hanging out of his mouth, and I spent the whole journey staring at him as he ate it without using his hands. And trust me… It's pretty damn hot to watch. He's got a pretty damn talented mouth. Ah, the things he could do… No, bad Matt! Stop perving on your boyfriend! Ok, so maybe I'm allowed to, but still. No need to make myself horny in the car.

Once we'd gotten back into the house, Mello grabs himself another chocolate bar and chucks a can of Red Bull to me. Ah, my beautiful hero. Cracking it open, we both head to the lounge to drop down onto the sofa, me automatically resting my booted feet on the coffee table and getting a light smack on the shoulder for it, which I naturally ignore.

"So, how was school?" I turn my head to the side to see Mello's eyes on me, one eyebrow raised a little in interest. In the space of time it takes me to shrug and figure out an answer, he snaps another bit of chocolate off, seeming to enjoy letting it melt on his tongue.

"Not too bad. Near was kinda annoying, but other than that, pretty average." For a moment, it looked like Mello was gonna question me a little more, but then he simply made a sound of consent and went back to his chocolate. After a short moment, in which I managed to clean out my entire can in one, long chug, I went over to the TV and grabbed one of my games controllers, flicking on the TV and setting to work on the boss I had apparently been about to face before I last saved and turned off. Cool.

After kicking Bowser's ass for what must've been the fifth time on some tiny little non-planet, I get sent back to my ship, courtesy of a Grand Star. Cool. I have to say, some of these games are just more awesome than they have any right to be. Heh.

Mello must've become rather bored at some point after he finished his chocolate, because I can feel him lightly toying with my hair again. I sigh happily, relaxing a little more as I take down Goomba after Goomba. There are seriously too many of them in this game. But oh well, it's fun to take them down. Though, it's not exactly difficult. I wouldn't say they were the most hardcore of enemies.

My gaming continues for over an hour, by which point I'm sat in Mello's lap while he simply runs his hands wherever he feels. Aside from _there_, he knows not to disrupt my gaming too much. He massaged my shoulders for a little while, which was nice. I don't understand why he bothers to spend so much time watching me goof off… But it's nice for him to be here. Yeah. I like it.

My mind involuntarily jumps back to the conversation I had with Near. What was the logical reason for me liking Mello? No… Maybe there wasn't one. Maybe there didn't need to be, because I think with my heart not my head when it comes to him? Maybe. Though, I don't think that Near would buy that. He tends to have to use his goddamn brain more than anything, so I expect 'I love him because I do' wouldn't be an answer he'd want. Lousy albino, emotionless genius-kid. Huh.

"Mello, what logical reason is there for us to be together?" The question came out before I could stop it, and I bit down on my lip, immediately mumbling for him to forget about it. Mello froze, and I could feel his body tense a little.

"Does there have to be a logical reason?" he questioned, and by his tone I expected his expression was slightly fearful, like he thought I was thinking about leaving him or something. Which seriously isn't the case. So I shrug, pausing my game and letting my hand drop to gently rub the outside of his thigh.

"No… It's just something Near asked me today. Kinda got stuck in my head I suppose." I turned a little, feeling a little worried when I saw his scowl. Somehow, I think he's not part of Near's fan club. Just a little feeling I'm getting.

"Bloody Near… Just because he doesn't understand…" he murmured, before elaborating when I simply stared at him in confusion. "He did his best to try and break B and L up when they first got together… Let's see… It was about a year ago. Anyway, he did everything he could to stop them from liking each other, because he didn't understand why his brother was acting different. The kid's scared of change, I suppose. He wanted his silent big brother back, I assume. Well, L was never silent… But he grew a lot less introverted and lot more talkative after he and B hit it off."

Mello sighed, pulling a face.

"That's why B dislikes Near. Even though L tells him it's not Near's fault, and he's only young, B still hates that he tried to ruin everything." Mello shrugged, winding his arms around my waist. "So look out for that kid. Don't let him mess with your head, ok? I wouldn't want to lose you because of that damn marshmallow, get it?" I nod, dumbstruck. Near… would actually do something as jerkish as that? Maybe it's just that I've never known that part of him. And hell knows, I hope I never do.

Mello shifted me off his lap rather suddenly. "Hey, how about we order out for a pizza?" he asked, grinning and moving to pick up the phone. I nod, looking pleased at this new development.

"Sure, sounds good. An American?" Mello nods, talking into the phone for a little while, before dropping it and leaning over me, kissing me lightly on the lips.

I quickly tug him down on top of me, and we both chuckle as he has to roll off me and readjust his leather a little. After that, a bout of tickling came around, interrupted every now and then by small kisses, making us giggle harder. I suppose it makes him feel a lot younger, but I just enjoy being able to mess about. It's good to know he's not too mature. Although naturally, we have to stop and sort ourselves out when the doorbell rings, and I skip to the door to fetch our pizza (it's large, so we're sharing, duh) and pay the guy. And yes, Mello's wallet was on a table on my way to the door. Got a point?

Dashing back to Mello, I drop the box onto the table and open it, happily attacking it straight away while Mello stares at me in slight suprise. "Hungry, kiddo?" he asked, chuckling as he grabbed himself a slice. I didn't reply, since my mouth was too full of food to manage an actual answer that wasn't just a grunt. Still laughing, Mello managed to demolish just as much as me, leaving absolutely no leftovers to snack on tomorrow. Oh well. It tasted good. Mello's still snickering at my inability to eat normally as he leaves the room, coming back within five minutes with two bowls of ice cream, which, much to my non-suprise, is chocolate flavoured. With chocolate sauce. Cool.

I finished mine pretty quickly, but he was taking his time, smiling in absolute bliss at each mouthful, making my mouth water a little. Just a little, mind. I don't drool that much, y'know. Well, I might. Whatever.

I slowly kick off my boots so that I can kneel on the sofa, leaning over a little and gently capturing his lips. After a moment's pause from the suprise, he starts kissing back, his mouth still full of the melted, chocolatey concoction, letting me 'try' some of it as he deepens the kiss, making me blush a little. I don't believe this has happened before. Ever. Nope, definitely not.

I can actually feel my brain cells frying away and popping out of existence as he kisses me, making my whole mind go blank. It's… It's nice. Sharing food this way. Especially food that happens to be chocolate, the most protected and valued food that exists. At least, in Mello's eyes, this was the case.

I don't even notice that Mello ended the kiss for a few second, my eyes still closed and arms still around his neck, before I slowly swallow. Almost immediately, I feel a hand rubbing my thigh gently.

"Aw, you poor little thing… Was that a little much for your hormone riddled brain to manage?" he teased, his other hand lightly playing with my hair, as he seemed to enjoy doing as of lately. I simply shrugged, before pulling him back and happily, forcing more kissing to happen. Well, it was really forcing at all, since he was more than willing to go back to molesting my mouth. What I hadn't noticed was him spooning some more ice cream into his mouth, so it came as a bit of a surprise when I realised.

And this continued… Until we managed to finish his bowl of ice cream as well. And then he just stood up like nothing had happened, despite his rather obvious arousal, setting about cleaning up, while I sat there stunned, half-tempted to pick my controller back up, but finding it impossible to move. Damn.

I need to work on that whole 'self control' thing.

* * *

**Yay, this chapter was longer, right? :D I'm so proud of myself! Ah yes, thank you to all my wonderful, wuffly reviewers, you can all have cyber cookies and cyber hugs! Because you've all inspired me, and some of you have come up with the same ideas.. so I'll be using those! :D**

**Also, a massive thanks to all the people that have been reading, but have only just decided to review, because it means a lot :D And it makes me really happy to think that people have come to the conclusion I'm worth reviewing :D It makes me feel so warm inside! Obviously, reviews are wonderful and loved, and any idea most probably will be used, since I need to fill some space before I can put my own next idea in... **

**ALSO! This is important! I'm considering.. Splitting this at a good point. You know, finishing TR and making a sequel instead of keeping on writing. Of course, disadvantages of this are that then I'd have to think of a new title... So if you think I should make a sequel instead of making this single fic stupidly long, message me, tell me, and give me name ideas! It'll be much appreciated :D Plus, I'm indecisive, so yeah :) **

**Anyway, thanks if you're still reading this random AN, and I hope you have a nice day/evening/etc :D**


	27. My Delirium

**Well, my dear muffins, I am finally back. Well... It's been what, a month? D: And the last two weeks weren't even abroad or something... Damn I'm a lazy, uninspired sod :O Anyway. **

**A beautiful reviewer named xxFlutterStutterBOOMBOOMxx jumped me out of my horrible writers block with a review that made me squee inside :D whee! ^^ so, big hugs to you, and to all of my other wonderful reviewers... And now! On with the show!**

**Disclaimer - I don't even own the first half of this. LawlietKeehl does :D **

**Warnings - Dude. Surely you know this fic well enough by now, aye? XD**

**Enjoy~!**

* * *

I do love a good cold shower. It's really rather awakening, and being awake means that I can have fun with the silly little redhead in the other room.

Therefore, being awake is wonderful.

So, I think, maybe, I will have a good cold shower.

But maybe, it'd also be fun to get Matty a little hotted up in advance... Yes, torment is so much fun.

And when the two ideas collide, a beautiful plan is born. Oh yes. If my mathematical skills serve me correctly:

Mello cold shower + wanking off (=moans) = horny Matt

And so, I strip off and step into the shower, turning it down to the coldest it'll go. As I anticipated, the water instantaneously wakes me right up, and in my shock I let out a loud gasp, which I'm pretty sure my dearest Matt will have heard. Now, at least, I'll have his attention.

Now, about those moans...

Slowly I take up my length in my hand, and begin leisurely to run my fingers delicately up and down, teasing them from base to tip, and letting out my first, if quiet, moan. It's not half as good as being in Matt, but good enough.

It doesn't take much; but then, I am very good with my hands. Slowly I increase my pace, very gradually starting to push down harder, harshly yanking my fingernail down all the way. The moans are coming more naturally now; and more frequently, and louder. I wonder vaguely what this might be doing to Matt.

But Matt has, I must admit, become a second priority, just for the moment; as I scrape my nails up and down a little more, the slight noise joined by my increasingly lusty moans, I can't help but become a little more absorbed in what I'm doing than originally intended. The cool water is keeping me on edge, and as I continue to toy with myself, I feel my muscles rippling of their own accord.

I continue to slide my hand up and down for another good few minutes, and as I do I can feel a familiar warmth beginning to pool in my abdomen. I let out a shuddering groan, leaning back against the cold tiles and closing my eyes. Not long now...

A couple more light touches, and then a final harsh tug; and I feel myself exploding suddenly, and let out a loud and orgasmic cry, my pace not slowing until I finally feel the ecstasy passing. I slide down to an untidy sitting position and try to regain some breath. That was good...

My mind wanders vaguely back to Matt as I remember why I was even fapping in the first place. Oho.

I turn off the shower and get out, wrapping myself quickly in a large white towel. I sure hope that little show's fucked him up a bit...time to find out.

* * *

I was reaching for my games controller, trying to will away my hard on before I heard a light gasp, blushing a little as I realised the shower had been turned on, and I could hear water spattering across the tiles and that beautiful, warm body I was getting to know so well.

I genuinely couldn't help but listen carefully for any sounds that might be following the gasp, surprised when I'm rewarded by a soft moan. _No way_… Is he… doing that… in the shower…? Oh dear crap. Why didn't he just come and ask me… Actually, never mind, really. Holy crap.

I can hear him moaning, and the controller slips through my fingers as I grab at my crotch without even thinking, moaning softly myself. He wouldn't be able to hear me, anyway, so it's ok… Yeah. Another groan from the bathroom reminds me of my current, aching problem, and I quickly undo my trousers, pushing them down off my hips, before suddenly thinking that maybe I ought to move to the bedroom… But Mello's moans are starting to sound even hotter; obviously he's _enjoying_ himself.

The thought of him, hot and wet in the shower, hand around… himself, has me shoving down my boxers to around my knees, where they meet with my trousers, grabbing myself quite hurriedly, my hormones taking over and making all his muffled moans seem extra loud.

I let my head fall back against the back of the couch as I start to work my hand up and down, not even really focusing on my actions, more enthralled by the beautiful sounds I can hear coming from the other room…

I was so fucking enthralled that I don't even hear anything past the loud cry I know signals his orgasm and I certainly don't hear the shower turn off.

I do however, hear the click of the door opening and I notice the wet body standing in the doorway, towel wrapped around his waist; his hair is plastered down from the water and he pushes it out of his face, raking his fingers through damp, blond locks.

"Oh, Matty… You enjoyed the show then?"

His voice is just so low as he speaks… Without really considering the consequences continuing might have, I get right back to my problem, pumping lazily as he raises an eyebrow and places a hand on his towel-covered hip.

"You have no self control at all…" I hardly even register the teasing words, far too busy imagining – or remembering, I suppose that's more accurate – that beautiful body of his, sans towel, hovering over me, just waiting to give me _exactly_ what I want…

I'm snapped out of my pheromone induced haze rather abruptly by fingertips trailing across my cheek, nails scratching just a little bit, making me shiver and lean into his palm, my lips meeting his as he leans down, grasping the front of my shirt to pull me forwards, into a position that makes it a whole lot easier for him to get his tongue into my mouth, playing about and trying to get a response.

He pushes my hand away from my cock, but doesn't replace it with his own, making me whine a little in annoyance. I can practically _feel_ him smirk into the kiss, the corners of his mouth twitching a little as he continues to tease my tongue, and despite the fact I'm not actually being restrained, I squirm instead of touching myself as the not-so-innocent, wet contact fuels my arousal.

Apparently, restraining myself from jerking off at the same time was a smart thing to do, because moments later I feel his _mouth _down… there. Yeah. My mind pretty much goes blank, my hands flying to his hair and my legs twitching and spreading on their own accord, muscles tensing almost painfully as my head hit the back of the couch.

I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have even been able to remember my name – if I'd bothered trying – at that point, my breath coming in short pants as he slowly bobbed his head, and I could feel his tongue moving fluidly along my length, his movements quickly becoming slicker and easier as he continued. Unsurprisingly… I don't remember if he's ever done this before… Ever…

"H-ah… Mello…"

My voice sounds completely foreign to me; too husky, too needy… On second thoughts, maybe I could get used to that. Or maybe I am used to that already. Needing Mello. Sounds about right. Huh.

I can literally feel myself teetering on the brink of orgasm… And then it happens.

The doorbell. Yeah, I know… The fucking doorbell! At a time like this…

Mello paused, making a low growling sound that makes his mouth vibrate around me, and my whole body twitch with want.

And again.

_Ding~dong~!_

Goddamnit. Why won't they go away…? On the third ring, Mello sighs, getting up and chucking a blanket at me to cover myself up with, which I do quickly, and goes to open the door.

Standing in the doorway are two, middle aged looking adults. A woman with hair that looked like it might've been a very bright, vibrant red once, but now slightly grayed, and a man with black-grey hair and a moustache. Two people I recognised almost instantly, even after what must've been ten years away from them.

"Mum…" and judging by the wedding rings, he must be… "Soichiro?"

_Silence._

* * *

**Cliffy? Oh, but it gets better... This, my dears, is officially the end of Techno Rejump. I know... I'm going to miss it too. But have no fear, dear ones, for although this is coming to an end... it means the beginning of a whole new fic, remember? But now, I really, really need names for it :D So... Anything is helpful, preferably along the theme of the title this fic has, so as to make them link a little? **

**Well... I'm being very overdramatic today. But, it is a pretty serious moment for me :O This, my dears, is my second ever complete fanfiction, and my first ever to be sequelled! Yay! Ah... I'm actually quite excited :D So anyway... Reviews make me feel warm and fuzzy, and I'll stick a little note up to tell you guys when the new fic is up, sounds good? :D**

**Bye bye~!**

**~Diabolica**


	28. UPDATE!

**Well, my little lovelies... The long-awaited sequel is now available! Yay! **

**It is going by the name "Breathe Electronica", if you want to search it, or you can find it on my profile! Whee!**

**Anyway, I'm insanely sorry for the wait, and I hope everyone's still interested!**

**I've been having a very interesting time lately, which is why this has taken so long... For one, I fell in love with _Loveless_, ironically enough, but really... It's a beautiful anime/manga. I might just cosplay Soubi. And on top of that, well... exams. Enough said, right? Given, I'm not currently doing any... But there's coursework. Or rather, "controlled assessment". Which is even worse. NUUU!**

**Anyway... That's enough rambling. In short; Breathe Electronica, the sequel, is now out, so I hope many of you skip off to read it!**

**Lots of love,  
~D**


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